Ends and Beginnings
by Artemis1000
Summary: Only based on K:TE Trinity, an idyllic, boring, little American town: Kindred are controlling everything, foremost Brujah Primogen Jonas, who’s more interested in money than clan wars. The idyll is ended, when Assamite come into the town and kill most l


Author: Artemis (Artemis1000@gmx.net)   
Disclaimer: This series and all characters are original, so they're owned by me. If someone wants to use them or the universe - just ask.   
Distribution: Please write me an e-mail when you archive it anywhere. I want to show-off ;-)   
Rating: R   
Chapter: 1/1   
Summary: At Trinity, an idyllic, boring, little American town, kindred are controlling almost the whole business and politics. Foremost, the smart Brujah Jonas, who's more interested in gaining another million at the stock exchange than waging a clan war. The peace is severely impaired, when the Assamite kill the whole Conclave but Jonas. Bound to a promise he gave the dying Prince, Jonas suddenly has to become Prince of the grieving, distressed and scared kindred community - or loose Trinity to the Assamite…   
Author's note: The story is playing at Trinity, Wisconsin, a town I especially created for this story. I'm aware that the storyline isn't very realistic and maybe the clans are even OOC. But I couldn't resist the idea of writing a fic about what the kindred can achieve if they're forced to work together.   
Author's note 2: Like always, please excuse my grammar and spelling mistakes, I'm not native to English.   
~~~ Starts and ends flashbacks   


**Kindred: Trinity - Ends and Beginnings**   
**By Artemis (Artemis1000@gmx.net)**   
  


Jonas Angelini was looking out of his office window at Washington Street 1001, one of Trinity's two skyscrapers. 

From the 21st floor he's able to enjoy a breathtaking view at the town and lake. But the Brujah wasn't in the mood to admire the beauty outside. Jonas was too busy staring holes into the shopping mall next door. Not that he minded - after all, it's his mall. He just needed to focus his anger at something. And he could do with his property whatever he pleased, couldn't he…? 

"Sire, I'm waiting!", whined a woman. 

Slightly unnerved by the interruption of his musings, Jonas turned around with his armchair. He wasn't surprised to see his favourite Childe leaning nonchalant against the doorframe. 

#She's so beautiful#, he thought. Only Eileen's face was clearly visible. Porcelain skin, brilliant jade eyes and a blood-red painted mouth. Her ruby hair veiled her upper body like a cascade, stopping just above her thighs. It covered a petite, feminine body at the moment clad in black leather. 

"Are you going to leer at me all night or will you bother to get your ass over here?", Eileen McKenzie asked harshly. 

Jonas couldn't help chuckling. #No wonder I love her…# "I don't leer at you, Eileen, I'm just looking at you." 

"If you go on like this you'll look at a very angry Lon soon", she reminded her Sire impatient. 

"Huh?" 

"You're having a date with our dear Prince at midnight, sweetheart. That's in… 45 minutes. Do I really have to tell you how much he despises your unpunctuality?" 

The Primogen jumped in shock. "Fuck! I totally forgot about the Conclave meeting! They're so going to kill me for this…" 

"How about a small present in token of your gratitude for your poor, poor little secretary?" 

#What a cheater she is!# "You're everything but poor, Eileen. Especially, since you decide yourself about your and Sam's salary…" 

"Oops!" 

"Yeah, that's very much "oops". Now excuse me please, I promised Lon to talk with him before the Conclave." 

"I want to see *that*! You need ten minutes to leave the building, 20 for the drive and… Jonas? Jonas, my Sire? Bastard!", she cursed. 

Returning to the outer office, Eileen got her pocket TV out of her desk's drawer and plugged it in. When she finally got a good picture, the secretary made herself comfortable and enjoyed her favourite late night comedy show. 

#Am I really glad that I'm just a plain, little secretary! Conclaves are just… yuck! I'm already shuddering from the very idea. Boring conferences, solving difficult problems and talking about blood hunts. What's the big deal? You loose a few precious hours of your life at Conclaves, if someone of your clan makes trouble you're responsible, you've to do all the senseless, boring administration stuff and you don't even get paid for it! 

I rather keep my job at the firm. I got nice colleagues, my Sire's my boss, I can choose my salary myself, get a day off whenever I want, don't have any responsibilities and I have many business trips with Jonas. Lucky girl I am that Jonas already has an assistant with Samantha. Otherwise he would maybe ask me to do it and I can't refuse a promotion by my own Primogen…#   


„Mister DiPasquale, Sir, Mister Stefano DiPasquale is at the phone. Where do you want to talk to him?", asked Tom's secretary. 

Tom DiPasquale wistfully shifted his attention from the letters he'd to sign to the trainee in front of him. #Why can't father let me in peace for just one single week?# "I'll talk with him at my office", said the blonde-haired Italian-American. 

"Aye, Sir." 

It didn't took the secretary longer than 20 seconds - to Tom's disappointment. "DiPasquale Public Relations Inc., Thomas DiPasquale, good evening." 

"Good evening, Thomas. How are you?" 

Tom had to force his voice into sounding pleased. "I'm fine. It's nice to hear from you, father", lied he. "How are you?" 

"I'm fine, too. How's the business?" 

"We're making great progresses. I'm surprised myself that we managed to get the business running within a month." 

"Tell me about it, Thomas." 

"With pleasure, father. For example, all employees took up their work now. The last one started the day before yesterday. The advertising campaign is running. And… we got today the first order! It's even a good customer." 

"You're doing a good job. I'm proud at you, boy. Although I still don't believe that it's wise to open a branch at Trinity. The city only has 45.000 citizens." 

The younger man had a hard time to suppress his anger. #Never can I please him! It's like he doesn't wants me to be successful and do things right! Why can't he just acknowledge what I already achieved in my life?# 

"I know. But this region is important. Many companies are located here. And although Trinity isn't a big or noble city, it's at Wisconsin, not at Washington State", insisted Tom. He's tired of pleasing his father - knowing that he would neither accept him as good son nor as good junior chef of their company. So why should he bother with not defending himself? 

This remark annoyed Stefano DiPasquale to no end. "Don't get cocky, boy!", he said harshly. "You're not exactly in the position to tell me how to run my company! I'm still the senior partner, Thomas!" 

Tom winced at the mental image of his father's head turning red, his blood pressure increasing. But what really frightened him, that he wasn't feeling any remorse. There's pity, but no guilt… #Perhaps that's one of the good things of being different. I don't have to care anymore for him. And I know that he would freak even more if he knew…# 

"Uh… Listen, father, I'm sorry, but I have a business appointment in half an hour. I don't want to loose that client..." #Great! Just great, Tom! Now he'll inquire you about your imaginative client!# 

"How is it going on with you and Molly?", Stefano DiPasquale asked, as if he hadn't heard his son's excuse. 

"She'll visit me in a few days." 

"Well, you should've expected that Molly wouldn't just move to some boring, little town just because of you! Mister Walsh told me just yesterday that she's still devastated because of you. What a gentleman are you to let a young lady suffer?" 

#You ever got the idea that I moved to Trinity *because* Molly won't come along?# "She knows that I did it just for the company. I'm sure that Molly would be willing to make the same sacrifice for Walsh Public Relations." 

"That she would. Although it'll be forever a miracle to me how a great young lady like her can engage with someone like you." 

"Well, we both know that it's to the best for our companies." 

I'll call you again when I find the time." 

"Okay, father. Have a good night." 

"Good night, Thomas." 

Thomas was relieved. He'd managed another time to pretend being the son who surrendered to fate. But his father's criticism had angered him. Now he wanted to show him all the more that Trinity was a good idea.   


Pleased with the outcome, stuffed Lon the papers into his attaché case. "That was a very good meeting. Do you feel like celebrating our successes?" 

"Great idea, my Prince", agreed the Toreador Primogen John. 

Jonas shrugged, "We're all tired, we don't have any appointments this night and we deserve it…" 

Marcus smiled affectionate at his Prince. "I think that's the best idea you had this evening, Lon." 

"Watch it, Ventrue!" 

"I'll keep my big trap shut now", promised the Ventrue Primogen. He raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. 

"The Barn?" 

"Where else?!"   


"Good morning!", greeted the four Conclave members when they arrived at the Barn with Alan, Lon's Childe and bodyguard. 

The western club at the harbour's customers were mostly kindred, but humans were usually also welcome. The barkeeper Miguel reached the newest guests two glasses of the best wine and three of cold, draft beer. "Like usual? My Prince, it's a good night. I didn't even knew we've as many kindred in town as kindred customers tonight." 

Because the old Brujah didn't wanted to worry his Primogen, he didn't showed how nervous he's. "I'll help Miguel. Make yourself comfortable, guys." 

"Okay." 

"Fine." 

"Have fun, Lon." 

"Do you want me to stay, Sire?" 

"Thanks, see you later. That includes you, Alan. Make yourself a good evening with Melanie. What do you mean, Miguel?" 

"Uh…" The young Toreador squirmed under his Prince's sharp gaze. Lon maybe wasn't very harsh for a Brujah, but he definitely could make your flesh creep with a single look. "I don't know. Many new guys… just the usual, my Prince." 

"How many?" 

"Well, I served seven people I never saw before. I assume they're kindred, but I'm not sure. If you want details, ask Cindy, the new waitress. She told me about it. Said they're kinda strange, almost creepy. Muscular, silent males with big guns or something similar." 

"They're looking human?" 

"No idea." 

"I mean the ones you served." 

"Yes, they looked pretty much human. But I got the impression they're soldiers. Don't know why, but they remembered me of Marines. The whole behaviour… And I noticed that all of them ordered only non-alcoholic drinks. Cindy also had much soft orders. No food, didn't asked anyone outside." 

"They're still here?" 

"Maybe. They should be sitting over there. At the first floor, next to the pillar. Somewhere near the big box." 

Lon followed his barkeeper's index finger to a dark, loud corner. The Barn had two wooden floors. Downstairs opposite to the main entry and next to the kitchen door was the bar with a few bar stools. To it's left was the kitchen located, to it's right the storeroom. Through this, you could reach an alley. Next was the door that led to the rest rooms - at which you could also get into the sewers. In another corner were the platform where sometimes bands performed and a dance floor. 

In the fourth corner was a - likewise wooden - stairway. The second - and quite shaky - floor seemed to hang at the walls. It's held of big beams, though, which were used to hang up paintings and loudspeakers. This floor was also furnished in western style. 

Instantly, Lon noticed that from the stranger's table, you could see the main entry. #A perfect place to watch without being visible…# The Prince wasn't surprised that it's vacant already. "Watch out for strangers while I talk to John, please." 

"Sure, my Prince."   


Marcus and Jonas went upstairs with their glasses of wine and beer, greeting acquaintances at their way. 

Leaning nonchalant against the parapet, Jonas smirked at the older kindred. #Now it's show time! You won't escape me this time…# "So, Marcus, now tell me what's going on with you and Lon." 

"I'm just a loyal Primogen", the Ventrue shrugged. Despite his perfect Ventrue poker face he wasn't quite able to hide his nervousness. 

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh", Jonas cooed. Oblivious to his mentor's uneasiness, he went on with his teasing. "Someone's getting a little bit uncomfortable? Come on, buddy, I know you like Lon. You can't hide it from me. I know you like… centuries. And there's nothing wrong with falling for him. He's like me one of the good Brujah in our city, remember?" 

Marcus shook his head at his scholar's persistence. He loved Jonas like he was his own Childe. #But he's sometimes just so… Brujah. Granted, that's stupid because he *is* Brujah. Still it's unnerving.# "I'm not falling for Lon. He's my Prince - the best I had till now - I admire, respect and obey him. That's the whole story. I don't have to have romantic feelings for someone to be loyal to him." 

"Denial! Denial! Denial!", sang Jonas. 

"Shut up! That's not funny when everyone's listening!" 

"Okay, whatever you say… I just thought I saw you leering at him at the Conclave…" 

"Jonas!" 

"What is it, Marcus?", he asked his mentor innocently. 

"If you have to tell me your unrealistic theories, then do it without entertaining the whole Barn." 

"I knew it! I knew you're having a crush on him!" 

"*Ssh*! Sometimes I really wonder why I never asked Lon to call a Blood Hunt on you…!", sighed Marcus exasperated. 

"Because I'm cute when I'm annoying." 

This made Marcus snort. "You aren't cute, boy, you're a pain in the ass!" 

"And you're no longer the noble, distinguished Ventrue you were before you moved to Trinity", stated Jonas calmly. 

"Well, you evil Brujah corrupted me. It's not my fault…" 

Jonas joined the chuckling Marcus after he considered killing him for that. #Then Lon would make me as punishment for killing his honey Ventrue Primogen and I would've to spend all my free time with this "we're so holy we should become Pope" jerks. No fun. No fun at all!# "Will I still be respected if I dye my hair red?" 

"Apart from the minority that you never received any respect and won't even in a millennium: Yes, you'll. Red can't be worse than green, yellow, silver and the rest. Although you've to keep in mind that you'll look like a Danish sausage." 

"Thank you very much, you're great at raising my self-confidence!" 

Chuckling, Marcus took a close look at his friend. Jonas was 6'7 tall, muscular and very good-looking - almost every women in his company had got a crush on him. The Brujah had beautiful dark-brown eyes and bronze tanned skin. If he just could do without his shoulder-length, dyed hair… #Metallic silver with rainbow strands really isn't the proper hair-colour for a Primogen!# He sighed silently, like so often in the company of Jonas. 

"Don't turn sulky, Jonas. You'll most likely be the best-looking Danish sausage that ever existed." 

"You're the only Ventrue I ever was able to really accept. And that's the reason." 

"Thank you." 

After some musing, Jonas added, "I don't mean being in line, obeying or something similar - it's a matter of course that I obey the Prince if he's too powerful to somersault him, I fancy my head attached to my body… But they never earned my respect. I was never able to feel more than indifference. With you, Marcus, it's different. You never looked down at me. Even if I was in howling Brujah Frenzy or managed to make something so wrong that it's an achievement already. And we both know that happens quite often… 

I'm glad that I met you 1898 at Paris. I guess I wouldn't be standing here now without your help, your friendship, your advices. 

Angelica embraced me and she showed me what our world offers to you. She taught me that being Brujah doesn't means necessarily that you're a fanatic extremist, a rebel, a terrorist and a criminal. You can just be criminal, work with rebellious methods and make a lot of money with it that finances you a fun life. 

You taught me how to live that life. When we met, I was stony broke, a four years old kindred who had no idea about the world he'd gotten himself into and just wanted to have a few fun kills. You taught me everything. Starting at how to control my beast to earning money with legal methods. I owe you a lot for that, I'm infinite grateful." A grin appeared at Jonas' face, "but if you ever call me a sausage again, I'll take care of your Final Death!" 

"You wouldn't dare to do that", teased Marcus. He didn't wanted Jonas to see how moved he's by his clumsy speech. It was hard for him to admit that he owed other people than himself, that he's grateful and that he appreciated the support he got. And saying this to a Ventrue had to be disparaging, like surrender for a cocky Brujah like him… 

"You bet!" 

"It won't take a minute, Jonas, then I'll never talk about it again. You would've been able to do it by yourself also. You wouldn't be as powerful and rich as you are, but you would've survived and you would've gained power. It's just not like you to give up and allow fate to take over control. You're already a successful businessman before you're embraced. You just needed the right encouragement." 

"I was successful before my embrace, but my family wasn't rich. I would've never made it to a bigwig. Also, because I had no ambitions. This only changed when I was embraced. I wanted to show everyone that I can be as successful at business like every Ventrue and Toreador…"   


"Hello darling!" Alan hugged his girlfriend Melanie and kissed her. 

"Alan! Love, am I happy that you're finally here. I got a surprise for you." 

"What is it?" 

"Oh, you won't find out this easy. How are you? Had you a nice night?" 

"Yes, that I had. The Conclave was a success, I guess, and the Primogen are in a good mood. Even Lon was cheerful." 

"Oh, what a surprise! We've to celebrate the anniversary of this night", teased Samantha. 

"How was your night?" 

"I had a lot of letters to deliver, Sam and me are still working at the permission to go to the concert… Business as usual. But you'll like my surprise. I think it's great and it fits to you. It's a gift." 

"Do we've an anniversary?", frowned Alan. 

"No, no, I just found a nice gift and because I'm not patient enough to keep it for the next anniversary, I'll give it to you now." 

"How do I deserve a gift?" Alan was still confused. He couldn't remember that he did anything to gain such affection. 

"With just being yourself. You're a great man, I love you and because you're always complaining about not being armed properly for the Prince's bodyguard, I got you something very nice. I just hope you like it." With a broad smile, Melanie gave her boyfriend a carefully wrapped up gift box. "Open it, please." 

"Oh, you're lovely, Melanie! I love you!" Alan had no idea what to expect. Perhaps a hand grenade, perhaps a radio set or a bottle of poison. In every case it would be something useful for combat - that's the prerequisite of Melanie's presents. Inside the gift paper was a glimmering white jewellery box. #So it'll be a gun.# Alan gasped when he opened the box and almost dropped it in shock. 

"Don't you like it?", asked Melanie disappointed. 

"*Liking*? Goodness, darling, I love it! That's the most beautiful gift I ever got! Well, apart from you." Affectionate, he looked at the box. Royal blue velvet protected a gleaming silver ritual knife. The shaft was decorated with elaborated ornaments. The knife's edges were razor-sharp and it's long enough to reach the heart of a vampire - still not too long to be unhandy. 

"I hoped so. I saw this and I just couldn't let someone else buy this knife. I remembered how much you yearned for a good knife and…" 

"You're great, Melanie, you're just great. Everyone will be envious!", Alan beamed. 

"Good. Your guard buddies will be envious at you and all the other women are anyway envious at me for having you."   


The rising sun painted the sky in warm colours when Clara finally arrived at her house. Her mood had been low all night because she'd to do the work of her sick colleague as well as her own while her boss was enjoying his honeymoon. Muttering curses without break, she rummaged around in her pockets in vain search of her keys. 

#I can't believe it! After ten hours of work I can't even find my damn keys! I just hope I didn't left them at work. I'll so freak then… Why has the damn car to break today of all disastrous days? Walking home from the mall at 1000 Washington Street to this piece of rubbish at 1734 isn't exactly on my favourite hobbies list! And I couldn't care less if it's healthy or not. I'm a kindred, not a runner! Hopefully I didn't left my wallet at the store, too. Then I can't even pay a locksmith…# 

Just when she's ready to get a fit of rage, the high rise's front door opened…   


Tom had found back to his usual cheerfulness when he went into the elevator of his apartment house. The cause was a phone call of Molly - she couldn't visit him because she's forced to make an urgent business trip. To Asia and for two weeks at least. This gave him another month to prepare mentally for his fiancé's visit. 

The Ventrue didn't feared the separation. The only feelings they had for each other was all-consuming contempt. Him and Molly only engaged because their fathers wanted them to - the connections between their companies should be strengthened. Tom didn't wanted DiPasquale Public Relations Inc. to suffer from his feelings for Molly, didn't wanted to disappoint his father once again… 

And perhaps he would've been able to get along with Molly and marry her. If there hadn't been two "minor" problems… 

"I'm totally and utterly gay, I'm not the least bit human, I can't marry a mortal, human female!", Tom muttered under his breath. "The kindred will give me a blood hunt as wedding present and I can't even get myself a mistress!" 

He stepped out of the elevator at the 1st floor and opened the front door to get to his cab. Tom didn't wanted to risk his driving license because of two bottles of beer. 

"Jeez!", squealed Clara when the door suddenly opened. 

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I didn't intended to scare you. Tom DiPasquale, 1201." He smiled 

#Blonde, athletic, surf type, tall, in his mid twenties - so he's my senior by only around two years - cutie… yum! What a pity that he's looking so good that he'll have dozens of women who want to be his girlfriend. Still I can be polite to him...# "Clara McCarthy, apartment 504. You're the guy who rented the whole attic, aren't you?" 

"Yes, that I did… Oh, my cab's already arriving. It's a pleasure, Miss McCarthy." 

"Goodbye!"   


After Clara locked her apartment door, she hung her jacket and purse up at the coat rack. Then, she went further into her bleak one room-apartment. 

It consisted of a couch corner - that's also her dining corner - a cupboard bed with a little wardrobe next to it, a micro bathroom and her kitchenette. Actually, the little fitted kitchen was just another corner of her 60 feet square apartment, but she'd made herself a cardboard wall to separate it. 

Everything was provisional and aesthetics you searched in vain. But why should she care? The only visitor were anyway her Sire and six Childes - who dropped in all one till three years for a few days. Sometimes Ceallach introduced her to a new sibling or a travel companion. And that were the highlights of her social life… 

Fetching a little mirror from the bathroom, she sat down at her coach. Thoughtful, Clara studied her face. #I know I'm not beautiful - at least not, as long as I take care of my looks like now. But it still would be nice if someone noticed my existence…! 

It's time that I change something! I'm a shame for every self-respecting Toreador! Even the Brujah would be ashamed of me. But what can I do? It's no fun being alone all the time but I also don't want to meet with the other kindred. I don't even know if there're more than the Conclave at Trinity… I moved to this town because I wanted to live like a mortal - now I do that and I'm still unhappy! 

I've to think harder. Damn! I'm Clarissa of the clan Toreador, Childe of Ceallach, I can find a solution! I could ask Prince Lon for permission to embrace… No, that's senseless. There's no one I would like to embrace. I'm not close enough with my colleagues and my neighbours, I know no one else. If I ask John to accept me in the Toreador community again, I've to admit my failure… Should I ask Ceallach to pick me up? No, he's already having a sidekick… 

I wish I could just go to the Barn. After all, John told me that I can go there for help or if I'm just lonely. If I do that, though, I'm coming as a loser. I don't want the other Toreador to see me like this. I would only make a fool of myself and Ceallach… Let's see what the channels are broadcasting this morning!#   


In the late afternoon, Jonas was still suffering from the ale contest he'd lost against his Primogen colleagues. After he woke up with nausea at four p.m., he'd needed a hour of espresso and headache pills till he's able to form a clear thought. Because hunting was no fun when you threw your blood a few minutes later up, he then went into his study. Perhaps brain work would help to clean his system… 

So Jonas wasn't happy about the interruption, when someone ringed at six p.m.. In t-shirt and slacks, barefooted, he went to open the door. #Hopefully it's just the neighbour that I forgot to switch the lights of my car off… I can't manage anything that includes thinking.# 

"Hello", yawned Jonas while he opened. 

"Hi Jonas!", piped Marcus' Childe Melanie. She's a tall, black-haired woman with ponytail, sparkling brown eyes, middle-brown skin and quite a liking for revealing clothes. Although she's looking like a teenager, she's a three years old Ventrue. And messenger of the Prince. "Conclave 30 minutes after sunset." 

"Uh… okay, thanks. Do you want to come in?" 

"I've to inform the others too. Bye!" 

"Wait!", shouted Jonas at the Ventrue fledgling when a thought struck him. 

"What's up?", asked Melanie worried. She hadn't had heard Jonas shout at her since she dragged him to a Ventrue banquet. Except when he's near Frenzy… #What happened to him? He can't be mad at Marcus for having a hangover, can he?# 

"I've a very important business appointment shortly before sunset. Do you think it's OK when Sam represents the Brujah? I'll come as soon as possible." 

"That's very OK." Leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, she made her best "I'm a big bad Brujah" pretence. "Of course the Prince could be mad at you for this. And then I would have to defend you. And although you're my best friend's Sire, I'm perhaps not having enough ambitions... Don't you think that would be very, very bad?" 

"You and Sam can visit the concert as long as your Sire doesn't minds as well, babe." 

She kissed Jonas at the cheek. "Cool! I'll inform the Prince about Sam being your substitute. See ya!" 

"Who was this, Sire?", asked Jonas' Childe Samantha who just happened to walk into the hallway. 

Jonas couldn't help smiling softly. His beloved Childe looked even more vulnerable than usually in her Mickey Mouse pyjama. "Mel. She blackmailed me into letting you go to the concert." 

"Cool! You're the best Sire of the whole world, Jonas!", exclaimed Samantha. She's beaming with joy and jumped over the stairways' banisters the last steps down, hugging her Sire. 

"No, I'm not", told Jonas his Childe while kissing her forehead. 

"Don't give me this shit, Jonas!" 

Seriously, Jonas told her, "if I would be the best Sire, I wouldn't be this negligent with your education. You can allow yourself much more than most Childes. My own Sire wasn't rigid at me and she wouldn't approve the way I treat you. Also I would force you to restrain yourself more. 

You're socializing more often with Mel's Ventrue than with Brujah. You love and admire Ventrue and you're totally crazy for their guys. That'll not please the Brujah when you move to another city. They'll hate you for this, treat you with contempt and disgust. You deserve better." He sighed heavy, "but I can't forbid you to meet your Ventrue friends when one of the three persons I admire most is a Ventrue." 

"Well, then I'll charge you if the Brujah make trouble", laughed Sam. "You really don't have to worry about me, Sire. I'll get along with that idiots. If I've to stay at distance from the Brujah there, it's worth being friends with great - and good - people like Melanie." 

"And you don't happen to have a crush at Marcus, do you?", teased Jonas. 

"*Jonas*! Sire, watch what you say or I'll have to stop you forever", imitated Sam Melanie's infamous Brujah pretence. 

"I'll kill you for this!", mock growled Jonas. When Melanie run giggling upstairs, he followed immediate, laughing too.   


Looking forward to the concert she would visit with Sam - after three months of fighting with their Sires - Melanie left her car cheerful whistling in the middle of the street. 

She's going to go to the concert, Marcus wouldn't forbid the visit if Jonas allowed it and Lon would be very content with the job she did as the Prince's personal messenger. If she behaved good and worked hard, she would be permitted to wait on the Conclave meetings - something she dreamed of since her creation four years ago. All in all, life was good to her. 

"Please just park my car somewhere near to the exit. I won't stay long." The young Ventrue gave her car keys to one of the Toreador chauffeurs without stopping at her way to the mansion. 

The Prince's mansion at 1113 Lincoln Drive was just glorious. A beautiful building with 5000 feet square in baroque inside and colonial style outside, a 7000 feet big garden in castle-park style and 500 yard private beach. 

Approaching the front door, Melanie regretted that it wasn't common here that all Primogen lived at the mansion. The first Prince of Sunnydale designed the mansion as place where Prince and Primogen would live, not his property. So there's apart from the Prince's master bedroom and study for each clan's leader a similar study and bedroom. A few centuries, this helped peace at Trinity because no one felt like an outsider. Now, the three Primogen stayed mostly at their own houses. 

Although she liked living with her Sire, the dark-haired girl hoped, they would return to old customs. She couldn't stand seeing large parts of the mansion vacant. Already Melanie had heard rumours about Lon considering to give Primogen rooms to his best employees… 

Sighing in content, she closed the door behind her and walked slowly through the dim hallway. Melanie enjoyed the smell of heavy curtains, old leather and wood. #Every time it's like coming home. Perhaps - just perhaps - I'll live here sometime. I know the odds are that I won't ever, but a girl has to have some dreams…# 

Way too fast, Melanie's standing in front of Lon's study at the second floor. She knocked softly. #Hopefully my Prince isn't here. So I'll have an excuse to stay longer.# 

"Come in." 

The fledgling entered silently, trying to act as dignified as her Sire. Closing the door behind her, she approached Lon's desk and curtseyed in front of him. "My Prince." Her head was bowed as much as possible, her eyes at the floor. 

"Hello Miss Hart. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable." 

"Thank you, my Prince. Do you wish me to report?" 

"Good idea." 

"My Sire and the Toreador Primogen are able to attend the Conclave. J… Primogen Angelini will be late and sends Sam as his substitute." 

"He's going to have a date with his barber?!", snorted Lon. 

"The Primogen really sorry, my Prince. But he's having a business appointment at sunset that he can't delay. And if you permit me the remark: Samantha has way more patience than Jonas and should be the better choice." 

"Without doubt. I just fear that I'll be forced to introduce our guests to my Primogen when he's having tomato red hair." #On the other hand, it would be fun to see their faces…#, added Lon mental. 

"I guess they'll be shocked, my Prince. But their faces will be worth it, don't you think so?" 

"Most likely they will." 

"Uh… we're having guests? I didn't knew about that." 

"Frankly, I'm not sure myself, Miss Hart. There're a lot of new people in town but I don't know to which clan they belong and who's their leader. We'll discuss that at the Conclave." 

"What will you do with them, my Prince?" 

Because Melanie's natural trust in him was the best nurture for his strained self-confidence, Lon refrained from criticizing her. "We've to talk about that. As soon as we made a decision, all kindred will be informed." 

"My Prince, I'm honoured to serve you and I would like to ask a favour." 

"What's up?" 

"I wish I could come here sometimes without reason. Just to spend some time at the mansion. I can't explain it because I don't have a real explanation…" 

"I guess I have a good solution to that, Melanie. For this I also would like to ask the Conclave first, so I can't tell you about it by now. But regardless of this, it's a matter of course that you're welcome to spend as much time at the mansion as you wish." 

"I can't ever repay you enough, my Prince." 

"You're already repaying with being here. Believe it or not, you bring life into this old building. And everyone loves you. My guards, my servants, even my assistants… If that's everything, please deliver now this letters." 

"Right away!" Pride visible all over her face, Melanie kissed Lon's ring and turned to the door. 

"Melanie, please report sometimes this night. After the Conclave is finished." 

"Of course, my Prince."   


At the Prince's mansion, Lon was standing in front of his study's window, lost in thoughts. He's worried because of the strangers. The few people who'd met them said they felt pretty much Assamite - and he'd never been close to Assamite. He didn't allowed them to live in his city because they only made trouble, because they didn't followed his liberal lead. 

Lon's Childe and bodyguard Alan entered the study silently. "Sire, everyone's present", he reported with a strained voice. 

"Thank you, Alan." 

"Are you OK, Lon?" 

"I'm just worried. I don't have a good feeling about this maybe-Assamite. Did you doubled the guards already?" 

"I couldn't. We don't have enough guards. Usually 12 people are working at the security department apart from me, four are having duty at the same time. That's the most I can get out of them. Everything else would only give a false sense of security. They would be tired and no good guards anymore. With 89 kindred in this city and 27 of them working for you, I really don't know where to recruit new guards. I'm sorry." 

"I know you do everything you can, Alan. But we need more guards. In dangerous times like this, we can't protect the mansion properly. If someone would attack, we don't stand any chance." 

"Do you now understand why I ask you to recruit guards from other cities?" 

"I can try Minneapolis-St. Paul, Green Bay, Madison and Milwaukee. Perhaps they've some unnecessary guards. In fact, I want you to send immediately after the Conclave people to this cities." 

"All of them?", asked Alan shocked. 

"Yes, to all of them. I know that non of them is ruled by Brujah, but we aren't in the position to be picky." 

"Minneapolis and Green Bay are ruled by Ventrue, Madison by Toreador und Milwaukee by *Gangrel*. Most likely they'll all kill our messengers." 

"I know that myself. But what did I said about pickiness?" 

"What happens if our messenger is killed by them? Can you just accept this?" 

"No, I can't. But I insist on you sending a messenger to Milwaukee. Now please excuse me, the Primogen will not be happy if I make them wait for a long time." 

"Sire?" 

"Yes, Alan?" 

"Please don't be mad at me now. I didn't meant it like that." 

"You told me a piece of your mind, that's your right. And I didn't embraced you to flatter me. That's exactly what I like about you. Let's go, Childe, or your sweetheart will never become my assistant."   


"…not! We can't allow ourselves to fight a clan war now. We're too weak. And I won't tolerate if we just greet some strangers like they're enemies!" 

"Please restrain yourself, John. That's not the proper tone for a Conclave." 

"Please forgive me, my Prince. I'm just very worried for my Toreador. We'll be the first who die from such a fight. We're no great warriors and we never needed to." 

"I won't force your Toreador to fight, John. *If* we should be forced to fight the intruders." 

"Don't give me this shit! You're just too cowardly to fight, John! If they attack us, the Brujah clan will fight back! We aren't cowards who hide under the table as soon as trouble starts! We're honourable warriors and contrary to some damn degenerated Toreador who're staining this room we are going to defend Trinity!", shouted the enraged Samantha. She's pacing through the room, occasionally kicking against a door or wall for emphasis. The unofficial Deputy Brujah Primogen just needed a minor stimulation to go into Frenzy. 

"Don't you tell me anything about honour, rabble!", growled John in return. "You couldn't even find honour if it hit you in the face!" 

The next second, Samantha was at John's throat and strangled him. "You dare to call my clan rabble?! Son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you! I'll cut your head off and use it to decorate my living room wall! And I'll eat your heart, Toreador!" 

Lon watched the fight exasperated. #So much about Samantha being more reasonable than Jonas… What a luck that we don't have anything designed to kill a kindred in the room. Otherwise, Samantha would've chopped John a long time ago. What am I going to do with this little spitfire?# "Enough now, kids!" 

They couldn't even hear him through the noise they're making. "Bitch yourself!", screamed John and tried to spit at Samantha. 

Marcus shook his head like a disapproving father. #This children really can be a pain in the neck. Oh, after they calmed down, I'll suggest that Alan is present at Conclave meetings. He's the only one able to keep them from each other's throat. I surely won't do the dirty work again. My servant is still trying to get the blood out of my Italian designer suit!# 

"*Stop*! You won't fight anymore! If you want to fight, go somewhere else. Nobody will fight at this mansion!" 

Because of their own fighting sounds, they didn't heard the gunfight and screams outside of the Conclave room until Alan burst into the room. His shirt was bloody and he's cursing at his submachine gun. "Prince! Sire, we're under attack!", he gasped. 

This finally made the fighting inside the room stop, Lon noticed with some sarcasm. "How many?" 

"What?" 

"Who?" 

"Where?" 

"We don't have any time for talking! Get out of here!" 

Everyone drew his or her gun and prepared for a fight. To ensure them an escape route and protect them at the same time, the Conclave room was at the stairway of the third floor. Without windows. Not that they had any illusions about jumping down six yards… 

From downstairs, they heard fighting sounds. They're only halfway down the staircase to the second floor, when eight black clothed people run towards them. Instantly, both groups started to shoot…   


Melanie entered Jonas' outer office to find Eileen watching TV. She sneaked up to the Brujah and crossed her arms in front of the secretary's table. "I see someone's really busy tonight", she remarked wryly. 

"Beat it, Ventrue!", demanded Eileen with disdain audible in her voice. 

"I see… We're in a really bad mood tonight, aren't we, *rabble*?", Melanie challenged slight. #I wondered for a long time if and how she reacts to that…# 

This got indeed a reaction. A very harsh. Eileen's eyes changed from annoyed to furious and she started to transform into a wolf - fully intending to hurt the fledgling. "You'll never call my clan again rabble, you dirty Ventrue!" 

"*Stop*", commanded Jonas in an alarming calm tone. He stood in the doorway and watched them. "Both of you", he added, when Eileen glared at him. "Melanie, stop to pester my employers. If you don't have any other reason for being here, leave. Eileen, I would appreciate if you didn't attacked anymore the weaker. Melanie is just a fledgling, you're 12 years old and I expect you to behave grown-up." 

"Jonas", they whined simultaneously. 

"Anything else? Otherwise I would like to leave now for the Conclave." 

"That's what I came for, Jonas. I never just visit to pester your employers. That's… just a hobby of me. I wondered if you would give me a ride." 

"No, I won't. There'll be a reason for Marcus taking your car away. I refuse to support you when you deserved the punishment." 

"No! This time it isn't a punishment I had to deliver letters for the Prince. While I brought a letter to someone working at the mall, my car was towed off. This was the last letter, but I need to get back to the mansion. Lon wanted me to come back - I don't know why." 

"Still I won't give you a ride. First, you're responsible yourself for parking your car in a no-stopping zone." 

"How…?" 

"Every time you drive to the mall or my high rise, you'll park in the no-stopping zone. Second, you called my clan rabble. You've to get a punishment for that." 

"Jonas, you can't do that to me", whined Melanie. "I didn't meant it. I…" 

The Brujah Primogen shook his head. He wasn't mad at her, just tired of the fighting and a little bit sad that Melanie couldn't get along with his Childe. He knew she would never stop to love and admire him - although he was "rabble". "You absolutely meant it, Melanie." 

"I'm sorry. You know I would never say anything like that to you or Samantha. Hell, Marcus would kill me for it! It's just that I hate Eileen. The slut tried to seduce Alan!" 

"Eileen?" 

"Uh…" 

"You see? I told you that she did it!" 

"Please be quiet for a few moments, Melanie. Eileen, did you really tried to seduce Melanie's boyfriend?" 

"No, Sire, I didn't. At least not willingly. It's just an accident. We're both drunk and… well, we kissed a little bit." 

""A bit"? You're *groping*! In the middle of the dance floor! You just wanted to humiliate me. And you did! Happy now?" Melanie blinked blood tears forcefully away. 

"Eileen, would you please explain this to me?", asked Jonas. He didn't bothered to hide his anger at his redhead Childe. #How can Eileen do something such cruel to Melanie? I knew already that they can't stand each other, but Melanie never would interfere into Eileen's relationship out of revenge! We'll have to have a long - and for Eileen quite unpleasant - talk about Brujah honour, good manners and suitable revenge…# 

"Uh…" 

"No lies, Childe!" 

"The Ventrue bitch tells the truth. For once. But I didn't did it just to humiliate her. I wanted to have Alan. He's quite a good match. I mean, he's the Prince's Childe, his bodyguard and in a few decades he'll be Primogen. Apart from the fact that Alan is good-looking, generous and rich. He could offer me way more than a shabby room in a shabby apartment house in the industrial area." 

This made Jonas more angry than finding out that his Childe almost had a fling with the boyfriend of his mentor's Childe. "Don't exaggerate, Eileen! I offered you to live with me again when you followed me to Trinity a year ago. You refused because you want your freedom. And if you would ask me, I would even give you more money!" 

"I don't need and I don't want pity money." 

"Did you really believed that Alan could love you?", asked Melanie incredulous. "He's still loving me and he would've never given you the life you expected from him. And if you would love him, you wouldn't want him to, I never asked anything from Alan. If he would finance my life with all luxuries, I would feel like a prostitute - not like his girlfriend." 

"But he wanted me!" 

"You made him drunk! You gave him alcohol although everyone knows that he's getting very easily drunk, you *bitch*!" 

Jonas threw one last warning glare at Eileen and rubbed soothingly over Melanie's back. "Everything will be OK, babe. Why don't we go now to the parking garage and I'll give you this ride to the mansion, huh?" 

"Thank you", sniffled the Ventrue prettily.   


At their way to 1113 Lincoln Drive, Jonas managed to calm Melanie down. He's feeling awful because of the crying girl next to him. Not only cared he a lot for the young Ventrue, he also felt like he'd betrayed Marcus - although he hadn't had done anything. And for that he's making himself responsible too. Why had he left the party five nights ago such early? Perhaps he could've stopped Eileen, could've kept her from making Alan drunk. 

He'd known all the time that Eileen wasn't an innocent little angel. That's why he chose to embrace her 12 years ago. Jonas wanted to make a "real" Brujah Childe - not Childes like Ventrue, in the kind of Samantha, himself and his Sire Angelica. He'd wished for an evil Childe, not a mean one… 

"I promise you, Melanie, I'll not allow Eileen to repeat this. Not at Alan and not at another girl's - or guy's - boyfriend. That's OK for you?" 

"Yes, that's great. I know Alan would never be unfaithful, but it's still humiliating." 

"I'm glad that you informed me about Eileen's… misbehaviour. I don't tolerate such manners in my family. It's bad for me, for Angelica and for all Brujah. I just wonder why you didn't told me about it before", Jonas criticized softly. "I can't do anything without knowing about it." 

"I… I don't know. No, that's wrong. I do know, Although I trust you and I know you're my friend, I was afraid. I feared you would take sides with Eileen, don't believe me or give me the responsibility. She's your Childe, after all. And I'm just a Ventrue…" 

"That's silly, babe! I would never take sides with Eileen just because she's my Childe. If you're having the next time trouble with one of my Childes - although I hope you'll never - you tell me or Marcus about it. I insist on that." 

"I promise it by my clan and blood." 

"Good little Ventrue", smirked Jonas. "Tell me, babe, do you like my red hair?" 

"You're looking like a Danish sausage." 

"You talked to Marcus!" 

"You bet!" 

Jonas chuckled softly. He turned grave serious as soon as he caught sight of the Prince's mansion. Four black vans stood in the middle of the street. Through the engine's sounds, he could hear gunfire and shouts to retreat as soon as the strangers discovered his car. 

"*Goodness!* What the hell is going on?", gasped Melanie. 

Almost imperceptible, Jonas nodded to her. 

Melanie understood immediately. Shock and worries forgotten, she readied her own phosphorus gun and Jonas', put them back into their waistbands. She opened her safety belt and moved her seat back as far as possible. Under the carpet, Melanie found two phosphorus machineguns in pieces. The Ventrue build them together with the ease of a mafia leader's daughter and supposed heir of his syndicate. 

Jonas wasn't the least bit surprised when he received a readied machinegun as soon as he shut the engines down ten 20 feet away from the first van. #I told you you'll become the best enforcer Trinity ever had. You're already now a better fighter than me, babe.# 

Simultaneously, they left the car. Although their enemies had already opened the gun battle, they allowed themselves to first find a good position. Then, the two kindred brought hell to whomever dared to attack their Prince's mansion. 

"No, don't!", whispered Melanie, when Jonas wanted to approach the first car. "I got them a prezzie", she smirked and showed her friend a hand grenade. 

"Why bother?", asked Jonas before she made it live. "They're retreating." 

"Are you sick, Jonas? I can't hear any gunshots from the mansion, this means they'd to flee or are killed. Do you really want to let this bastards get away?" 

Unholy merriment flashed in the Brujah's eyes. He's near Frenzy and didn't felt like restraining himself. "Cover me!" 

"With pleasure!" 

Only the car at the far end managed to get away before Jonas threw Melanie's "prezzie" into the second. Taking shelter behind their own car, he grinned at the Ventrue who's calling reinforcement. The joy gave way to amazement, when a second and a third detonation was audible. He raised one eyebrow and asked, "Melanie?" 

"Bye, call the rest! I shot their gas tanks, Jonas. The running out gas is catching fire thanks to the sparks from the middle car. So we've got three detonations. The attackers who weren't killed from the grenade are dead now." 

"Good work." 

"I watched my dad do that when I was 14. He let me help the cleaning crew when he found out. Are we going to go inside?" 

"We do. We'll have no cover till we reach the mansion." 

"But the g…" 

"By *no means* stop at the garages! If some of them are left, they'll be desperate and take every risk willingly just to avenge their death comrades, babe. You'll have no way out." 

"Got it! Let's beat up this dirty pigs!" 

Jonas swallowed his remark about her talking like Sam and her Brujah buddies. Thinking about Samantha made him just want to go faster inside - save her and his Conclave friends, his inferiors. Most of the personnel was Brujah… 

At the paved square in front of the mansion they found the first of their own men. Three dead guards and two servants - most likely caught off guard - two black clothed, masked figures, most likely the attackers. They seemed to be just unconscious, but there's no time left for stabbing them or cutting their heads off.   


Melanie and Jonas turned methodical every room at the first floor inside out, searching for remaining attackers and survivors. 

In the last room at the second floor, Jonas opened warily a locked chest big enough to accommodate a person. Melanie pointed her machinegun at it. She claimed it's filled with linen. Now, it's filled out with a crying Brujah fledgling. "What are you doing in the chest?", he asked confused. 

"My Sire… he locked me into the chest, my Primogen. He said it's too dangerous for me and that I anyway couldn't be of any help injured as I am." She took a dozen layers of linen off her rips. Just beneath her heart, she's stabbed. "You're a friend of Sam, aren't you?" 

"I am. Lemme give you some blood." Melanie opened her wrist with her long, double-edged jack knife directly over the girl's mouth. She didn't wanted to waste a single drop of blood. "Jonas, will you please bring me the human corpses from the corridor?" 

"Sure." 

"Drink, little one, drink and heal. You're the first survivor we found and we need your help upstairs and in the garden."   


Jonas was just about to drag the corpses into the linen-room when he heard approaching footsteps. Drawing his gun again, the Brujah listened intensely. 

"They'll secure every room and every floor systematically", said one of the kindred police officers. "Let's start at the first floor. Look out for attackers." 

"We're down here!", he called. 

Instantly, a dozen of police officers, guards and other kindred run down the corridor. "What's up, Primogen?" 

"Take you care of a wounded fledgling in the linen-room. Melanie, reinforcement's here, let's get upstairs!"   


Jonas, Melanie and Miguel - the Barn's fledgling Toreador barkeeper - run into the Conclave room. And stopped dead in their tracks. What they saw, was shocking. Samantha, John and Marcus were stabbed with swords which handles showed orchids. The bloody corpses of Alan and two Brujah guards were laying everywhere - because they're cut into pieces. 

#I heard about massacres with orchid swords before…# "Black Orchid!", gasped Melanie. 

Jonas sniffed the air. "It really smells like Assamite. Do you notice it too?" 

"Yeah, you're right", nodded Miguel. 

"Good work, kids", told them a sweet, melodic voice. "Unfortunately, you're too late." 

"What the hell…?" 

Out of a shadowy corner walked a woman with a golden helmet masking her face. She's wearing a skin-tight, black leather suit. In front of her she held Lon - with a sword pressed against his chest. "Everyone has to die sooner or later. Your leader dies sooner." With that, she stabbed Lon, let go of him and transformed into a wolf while running out of the room. 

The Brujah Primogen kneed immediately next to his Prince. "M…" 

"Jonas", coughed the dying Lon. "Become Prince." 

The moment he made the promise, he regretted it. "Aye, my Prince", he whispered and closed the dead kindred's eyes. 

"*Goodness*!" Melanie was still too shocked to say or do anything. 

A few moments later, Jonas' orange shirt was already soaked with blood tears. Like everyone else in the room - in the whole mansion - the only surviving Conclave member cried. He mourned for his Prince, his Childe, his mentor, his killed blood-mates and the future the kindred of Trinity had been so mercilessly robbed of. 

Melanie was feeling similar pain, grief and hate. Not only had she lost her Sire, her Prince and her best friend, also her beloved boyfriend was killed. The most friends she had served as guards - so she was sure that she also lost her buddies. Everyone around her was dead. "Only death, destruction and pain so strong that it's almost visible… How did we deserved that? We didn't did anything", she sobbed. 

Miguel mainly mourned for his Primogen John. Lon was his employee, but he'd never been close to the Prince. John was his best friend, the one who got him this job and a new existence after he'd left San Francisco because of the clan war two decades ago. He'd had nothing but his irrepressible Toreador optimism. 

It didn't took long, then Jonas felt everyone looking expectantly at him. Around 30 kindred were pressed in the little Conclave room - mourning their friends and relatives, awaiting their orders of their new Prince… 

Although he's nearer to Frenzy than he'd been for decades, Jonas knew more clearly than he would ever again that Trinity was now his responsibility. #At least until a new Prince is crowned. Fate allowed me to survive. I'm the kindred with the highest rank at Trinity now. So it's my duty to take care of the people. To lead them and organize them until we've a Prince again. I owe that every single kindred and human who gave his or her life at the attack of Black Orchid. 

I still can't believe that Black Orchid is here. What does she wants? It's not like her to just attack a Conclave without provocation or previous blackmailing. She raids towns, granted, but she doesn't kills for no reason so many people. Except… except someone gave her the order to do so! But who could be such cruel? Other Brujah, werewolves and Gangrel would've done it themselves. Ventrue and Toreador worry too much about their reputation to risk being associated with an Assamite terrorist. Nosferatu are too peaceful. We didn't had any problems with Malkavian and Tremere lately…# 

"Jonas, what do you want us to do?" 

"Huh?" 

"What do you want us to do, Jonas?", repeated Melanie patient. #Poor Jonas. Now he's to grieve like us *and* fight Black Orchid *and* replace our Prince. It'll be very hard for him - especially because he never wanted to become Prince. But I'm sure that everyone will support him. We need someone who leads us now, who shows us that we can and will survive.# 

"Uh…" #What do we have to do?# "I don't know. Frankly, I don't have any idea. Let me think about it and make suggestions, please. I have a few suggestions myself, a few things I remember from Lon handling things. But I'm not the Prince, I can't decide such things all by myself. I don't have the proper position and the proper skills." 

"We've to clean up the street." 

"Yeah. We can't explain this to the police as a gang incident. At least not without having them in the mansion for weeks and making a big fuss about it." 

"I would love that very much. But we can't explain why so many people are suddenly dead. We'll unfortunately have to stick to the police. Eileen, I make you the organizer. Divide all kindred healthy up into three teams. One team handles the police that surely will be here soon. I'll stick to that. One takes care of the wounded. The police officers have to remember pretending they're as confused as everyone is and just chose to look around because of the gunshots. 

Two bring everything the Masquerade endangering or suspicions raising into the armoury and covers it. Like computers - someone could have a diary saved - floppies, bloody weapons, human bones, trophies of non-animal origin, files, weapons we're not allowed to have. 

The third will go to the Barn and all clan meeting places and inform the other kindred about what happened. I want Miguel to take part in this team. Everyone has to be even more careful than usual. We're not enough to let some kindred guard the other while they sleep, but if some of you manage to do that, it's best. In a few days we'll most likely be able to organize the guarded sleeping. 

Furthermore I order till the next full moon mourning for all kindred. That means: No fighting, no quarrels, no parties, no ceremonies, no replacing of our killed leaders and no Conclave meetings. We have to honour the dead before we start to work at our future. The one isn't possible without the other. I ask all of you to wear dark clothes in this time." 

Everyone left the room and hurried to follow the orders he or she had gotten. Some were also chatting upset. They're mourning deeply for Lon and the Primogen, afraid of new attacks of the infamous Black Orchid. And they're sure that Jonas would become Lon's successor. Who else was able to do it? All clans had lost their oldest kindred - except Jonas. But they're not just wanting him because he's available, they trusted the businessman to keep peace and reconstruct the kindred community. 

"Melanie, please stay." 

"What is it, Jonas? If you aren't in the state to talk to the police, I can do it by myself." 

"Don't worry, I'll do it. But I would like your company. For emotional support I can't think of anyone better." 

"Thank you." 

"There's still one thing. Someone has to keep the Prince's ring until a new Prince is chosen." Jonas slipped the ring of his dead Prince's finger. "The Ventrue are the ones who're usually Princes. You're the most qualified and smartest Ventrue that's still alive. When the mourning is over and you want to, you'll surely become Primogen, the Prince's familiar and second kindred at Trinity. So it feels right to me to give the ring to you until we've got a Prince." 

"But you'll be the Prince. Why should I keep it?" 

"Because I haven't earned this position already. And I'm not crowned. We need Primogen who elect me as their Prince before I can become Prince. Please?" 

"I'll take good care of it." Melanie looked in awe at the ring. It's beautiful and the power was radiating of it. #After the mourning period, I'll give it back to you, Jonas.# "Let's go to the police, shall we?"   


Annoyance plainly written at his face, Jonas walked in company of Melanie through the mansion's gates. They'd had a hard time persuading the police officers into letting them leave the house without making an evidence first. Not that he cared much - this way he'd gotten an excuse why he took so long to reach the street. 

They hadn't had any problems with the 52 police officers at Trinity because in charge was one of their own men - a very reliable Ventrue who unfortunately couldn't help them at solving every little problem. #Still it's not healthy to be careless. There're a lot of new detectives at Trinity and it's not like the police sends their good guys without reason into a little, idyllic one-horse town at Wisconsin just because of the nice countryside…# 

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Where can I find the detective in charge?" 

"The homicide squad commander is at the black civil car at the left, Sir." 

"Thank you very much!" With an uneasy gut feeling, Jonas approached the local police. When he saw who's shouting into a walkie-talkie, he groaned mentally and glared daggers at Melanie. "Please tell me Howard Young isn't promoted!" 

"I'm sorry, but he is. I just found out about it a few hours ago and because of the uproar, I forgot to tell you about it. Do you want me to get an ambulance?" 

"I'll do my best not to rip his throat out", whispered Jonas too low for human ears to hear. Nobody would suspect that he's feeling anything but confusion, grief, cause he's smiling and nodding brave at the police officers they passed. 

The detective was looking as unhappy about the meeting with Jonas as he's feeling. "Good evening, Mister Angelini." 

"Detective Young, you wanted to talk to me. So talk, I don't have much time." 

"Can we have this talk at the precinct?" 

"Do you've any reason to arrest me?" 

"No, I don't. I just thought we could take our time at the precinct. I've quite a lot of questions, ya know?" 

"For example?" 

"Why did a hand grenade exploded in the centre van? And why were all corpses we found so well-armed? To me it seemed rather like I saw the camp-ground of a guerrilla than a mansion in the middle of the United States." 

"If it would've been a guerrilla camp, you hadn't been able to make the heaps of roasted flesh out as corpses", remarked Jonas dryly. 

"Uh… that's really fascinating, Mister Angelini, but I would prefer not to have a talk about the remains of corpses after a guerrilla camp was attacked", said Howard Young disgusted. #Yuck! I so *not* wanted to get this mental picture into my head!# 

The police officer sized Jonas up, lost in thoughts. The young Hispanic with bronze skin was very tall, muscular and looked quite ridiculous with his long, tomato red hair. Still Howard never forgot that he wasn't exactly socializing with the nice new neighbour - he's talking with a millionaire who gave everyone sane the creeps… 

"Something wrong with my clothing?", asked Jonas quizzically. 

"Yes. You're looking like you rolled for hours through the dirt." 

"Well, I did exactly that, in case you wonder. Can I *please* now leave to mourn for my killed friends?" 

"Uh… of course, I'm sorry. I didn't thought about that", stammered Howard embarrassed. "I… I'll call you for an appointment. I need to get the evidence done with you before the district attorney gets this case." 

#That's nice. Why does he has to be nice? I've to hate him because he'll perhaps get suspicious! Please don't be such nice!# Jonas smiled softly at the human. "Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you." 

"You're welcome. How about your evidence, Miss…?" 

"Melanie Hart." 

"Are you Mister Angelini's girlfriend?" 

"Uh… no. I'm his… his cousin. I know we don't look like cousins, but we are." 

"Sure." 

"Can we make my evidence at another time like Jonas'? I was very near to some of this people too. My boyfriend and my… mentor also were in the mansion." 

"Of course, Miss Hart. Will you please give me your identity cards?" 

Both reached the detective false ID cards. Jonas' birthday was only 21 years ago according to it - the age he's embraced it. Melanie was made two years older than she was because she wanted by all means to be of age. 

"Thanks. Here you are, Ma'am, Sir." 

"Thank you very much, Sir. Jonas and me are eternally grateful that you're so understanding. Goodbye!" 

"Goodbye." 

"Bye!" Slowly - not wanting to raise any suspicions - they walked to Jonas' car. It wasn't the one they arrived with, in the meantime a servant had brought them a Mercedes. 

Melanie heaved a sigh of relief when the engine roared up and finished belting. She'd been afraid the car wouldn't work because of some strange reason and detective Young would change his mind till their cabs arrived. "I'm happy that we're away from the mansion, Jonas." 

"Me too. I thought I would go into Frenzy every moment." 

"Can I ask you for something, Jonas?" 

"Sure. I'll do everything in my might to help you and fulfil your wishes." 

"Do you let me stay at your place? Just for one night. I don't want to be all by myself. I can call the servants that they bring me some clothes to your place." 

"I've got a better idea." 

"Then tell me. I'm in need of every good idea at the moment." 

"We could just move into a hotel. For a few days - till the servants were able to make our houses like we want them to be." 

"Thank you, Jonas. You're the best friend I could wish for." 

"I don't want to and I can't replace Samantha, but if you need someone to talk or just spend some time with, I'll gladly volunteer. We both lost her, we both lost Marcus", Jonas said softly. #if I could only help her. I'm 109 years a kindred now, I'm used to loosing loved ones. Mel is so little, perhaps it's the first time she lost a family member…# 

#How nice he's. I really don't understand why most Ventrue don't like Brujah. All Brujah I ever met are nice, kind and polite people. Well, they're talking a little bit too often about guns and killing and this stuff, they easily go homicidal, but still they are good friends#, Melanie thought. #Jonas support is such moving - himself he's grieving and he only worries about me. Although we aren't even of the same clan…# 

"You're way too good to me. I don't deserve so much attention, so much love and friendship, Jonas. I'm just a young, lowly, average Ventrue. You're Primogen and soon-to-be Prince. You're someone important, someone popular. I don't want to disturb your grief and your planning for our future. Unfortunately, I don't know much about Brujah funeral traditions, but I guess that Ventrue usually aren't welcome." 

"I myself am not familiar to traditions. I didn't lost many kindred important to me till this night. But I heard about a ritual Angelica invented. My Sire lost seven Childes - she's quite an unlucky person in that matter…" 

"I'm sorry. I never heard much about her." 

"Most that's known about her are just rumours. Angelica is like a legend for all Brujah. Some people claim to know her, most don't believe that the truth that's told about her is the truth and suddenly she appears where you expect her least. That's how things work with Angelica. Whenever you try to judge her, you'll misjudge her because nobody can judge her. She's unpredictable. So I'm happy that you didn't heard much about her." 

"Will I sometime meet her?" 

"I'm sure that she'll like you. I just don't know when she appears next time. Perhaps in a few days, perhaps a few years or decades." 

"Does that means you don't have contact to her?" 

"Well, I have contact to her. But when she writes me a letter, answering her is pretty senseless because she won't live anymore at this address when my letter arrives. So she calls me when she's in a village with phone. Angelica is an adventurer, she's travelling all the time and usually in areas without access to a phone." 

"What's with a cell phone?" 

"She's promising me to get one since they're invented. I don't believe anymore that she'll buy one in this century." 

"If she's such an adventurous woman, perhaps she likes that she's not having a phone all the time. She's free this way - no one can control her and command her. Even if no one wants to, she'll perhaps fear it. She's from another era." 

"You're right, Melanie. You see? I told you that you're able to see more in people you don't even know than me." 

"Yeah. But Alan is dead. I still can't understand that. It feels like I'm in a bad movie or a nightmare. I want to wake up and I don't want to at the same time because I fear I would've to accept it as the truth then." 

Sighing sadly, Jonas stopped the car at the lake's beach. They left the car and walked slowly through the night. "I'm so sorry, Melanie. If I'd been there perhaps…" 

"No! Don't, Jonas. You're not responsible and nobody will make you responsible." 

"One person does. Myself." 

"I so want to help you. But I can't. Nobody can help you to fight your own reproaches. Only you yourself can forgive you. And I hope you'll soon. Because we need you. My life is over but yours doesn't has to be." 

"Don't say such things, Melanie. Your life isn't over. Many people you loved died. The future how you knew it died. But there'll be a new future. The curse of being immortal is that you can't just stop it. You can't just wait that you grow old and die. We're forced to fight for a new life every time we loose one. And in a few decades you'll know that you can too. Your life will go on. If you want it or not. You can either accept your fate after a time of grieving or you just suppress your grief and live in the past", told Jonas the Ventrue softly. 

"How can you be so strong, Jonas?", asked Melanie surprised. "You lost almost as much as me, you're now responsible for Trinity and still you're able to help me with my grief." Laying one arm around Jonas' waist, she leaned against him. 

"That's the curse of being the leader and an old one. I can't allow myself to grieve. There're more important things to do. When our friends are buried and our future is secured, then I'll allow myself to grieve. Not before. Or at least I try not to. It's hard for me like for everyone and I don't know if I'm able to be such strong all the time." 

"You don't have to. If you want to be just by yourself or just mourn, I'll take care of everything else. Let's face it: We're the two only survivors among the leaders and their descendants at Trinity. Not even a single Childe of them who's in town can help us. It's only the two of us. So we've to help each other." 

"Melanie, I want you to become Primogen. There's no one who can be a better Primogen and if you want me to become Prince, I need you as my Ventrue Primogen. You just have to candidate, then they'll give you the job. Look, I know that's all quite out of a sudden, but I need someone like you at my side. If you would be older, you would have my vote for Prince." 

The girl shook her head disappointed, "I would love to, but I'm such young. I'm not good enough to become your Primogen. You deserve someone old, someone experienced. Someone who can lead your people with you. Not a three years old baby kindred who's busy mourning for her boyfriend. I would be ashamed to sit at the Conclave table because I don't deserve it." 

"I understand that you're hesitant. You would be the youngest Primogen in the history of Trinity. And I understand that you're self-conscious. But I'm feeling the same. We both have to follow into big footsteps and both of us doubt if we're able to fill them. I apologize for just forcing you into the Primogen position. 

So I'll make you another offer. You become my assistant at reorganizing the new Conclave, at keeping the kindred together. And after the four weeks when we make the new Conclave, you have the position reserved. Whoever comes into this town, you're my first choice. You can even choose which clan's Primogen you want to become. It's everything yours. Only if you refuse *then* I'll give your position to someone else." 

"That's a deal I would like very much." 

"Then you get it!" #You'll never have any idea how much you mean to me, Melanie. You're like the little sister I ever wished for and never had. I just hope I'll not disappoint you like I disappointed my mortal and kindred family so often. And I hope you don't ever forget that I'm Brujah - this almost destroyed my friendship with Marcus. Somehow I even hope that you'll become Brujah Primogen if we don't find someone older *and* better. It would be kind of strange, but the Brujah will love you as much as they loved your Sire and I can't think of any better Primogen for my clan.#   


Three weeks later 

Jonas and Melanie rented the two best suites at the more elegant of Jonas' two hotels. Crete Hotel was like the other located in the little town centre at the harbour. It's at the promenade and from their balconies they had the feeling of only being a few feet away from the lake. In fact, it were 14 yards. 

Jonas sat at the balcony and enjoyed a glass of red wine. The old Brujah liked that the sun set so early in winter season, so he regretted that it's already February. The darkness made him feel safer because in this time of day he's having an advantage - the day was the element of humans, the night was his. 

He would've to go hunting this night, considered the Brujah Primogen. Jonas couldn't enjoy the hunt anymore since the assassination. Every time he's feeding of humans, he had a flashback to the Conclave room, watched again the corpses of the other Primogen and his Prince… 

"Hey Jonas", greeted Melanie. With the spare key she'd entered the older kindred's room. 

"Hello babe. Nice to see that you finally let yourself in." 

"Well, I still think it's not polite." 

"Nonsense! Do you want to hunt with me?" 

"I would love to. But I promised Miguel to come to the Barn later. He's worried about the future and it seems like my job is to soothe him." 

"We can go together. I anyway wanted to have a drink at the Barn." 

"Cool!" 

"Melanie, there's something we've to talk about." 

"What?" 

"We didn't lived in our houses for three weeks. The servants will get anxious that we won't return at all. Everything is repaired for two weeks now." 

"I know and I want to go home. I'm just afraid of being alone in the big house. You're at least only having a little house, Marcus' is so big. It's frightening. Tomorrow is the opening of the will, after that I'll return." 

"You don't have to." 

"That's where you're wrong, Jonas. I have to take care of the house. If I get it for myself, I'll consider renting it to some rich people. I need money and I don't want to sell the house. But it's too big for myself. If I inherit it with my siblings, I've to wait for them to return. Still I won't move back into the house for good. Just for a few days to get over my fear. And then I want to return to it whenever I want to feel like I'm near Marcus." 

"That's a good idea. I'm planning similar with my own house. I'll return to it to clear everything, to pack Sam's things away - I didn't wanted the servants to do it - and then I'll come back into the hotel until I found another home. I want to keep my mansion like it's now. But you don't need money, Melanie. As my assistant, you're getting paid. That is, if 5000 dollar per month are enough. Otherwise we can talk about a raise." 

"Thank you. You're very generous." Almost, Melanie added, "my Prince." She was surprised herself how naturally she'd accepted Jonas' leadership, how fast she grew on him as her Prince. Everyone knew that he couldn't and wouldn't ever replace Lon - he could only be a poor substitute - but with every day she's more sure that Jonas himself would become a good Prince who didn't had to pretend being someone else. 

"You're a good employee, so you'll be good paid."   


Almost all kindred at Trinity and a dozen guests from other cities who visited to condole were at the Barn this Sunday. 

At ten o'clock in the evening, many customers came to the bar and listened to the Brujah rock band performing. So it's no surprise for the crowd that also Jonas and Melanie called on. Only the messengers were confused by the companionship between Brujah and Ventrue, for everyone else it's nightly routine. 

"Evening, Primogen, Madam!" 

"Good evening, Miguel. Melanie told me that you're worried because of the Barn's future." 

"Yeah, that I am. No affront, Jonas, I know that you wanted this mourning month, but we need to buy groceries, we need to pay the personnel, the extras…" 

"I get it. What do you know about the opening of the will?" 

"It was Friday, Jonas. Don't you remember, I told you yesterday that I'll go there. And I address you with my problems because the bar was given back to the Toreador." 

"Given back?", repeated Jonas confused. 

"Yes. The Barn was my clan's present when Lon became Prince of Trinity. Now it's given back to my clan. But without any surviving leader it's your responsibility." 

"Okay, it shouldn't be too difficult to be in charge of a bar until we got a new Toreador Primogen. It's only one week and business is by accident my special field…" 

With a teasing smile threw Miguel half a dozen of files into his arms. "Please go through that till sunset and sign the transfer forms for me. You're having at eight o'clock an appointment with the notary and at 10 o'clock with our PR agency. Lon wanted us to go to DiPasquale Public Relations because it's a kindred company." 

"But…" 

"Sorry, but that's only the most urgent work." 

"Okay, I'll take care of that. Eileen!", he shouted through the whole bar. While he waited for his Childe to arrive, he wrote a power of attorney for his secretary and assistant. "Melanie, seems like the free morning is cancelled for me. You can still have some fun. Just send me a few more or less sane Toreador and a Ventrue who's able not to loose more than the half when I let him administrate 500.000 dollar for a month." 

"I'll call for the Toreador. The Ventrue is standing in front of you." 

"No, Melanie, I don't want you to be such busy with kindred business. You're also having a private life, remember? You shouldn't neglect it." 

"Don't give me this shit, Jonas! I would be a lousy friend if I wouldn't help you now. You need my help and you get it. Besides… I don't know any Ventrue who can save 10.000 of half a million", she confessed ashamed. 

"What happened to your clan being ruthless businesswomen and -men?", groaned the Brujah. "I really liked this times, I notice now." 

"We're very good at business. But all the good people are dead. We've anyway only 19 surviving Ventrue at Trinity." 

"Okay, I take that back. Still I want you to bring me this Ventrue, Melanie. I can't be picky at the moment and I need you for more important jobs." 

"Right away!"   


Almost a hour later, the usual noises at the Barn suddenly gave way to depressed, frightened silence. 

Jonas knew that more was going on than another wave of grief. Even directly after they got the information of the Assamite attack, people were talking. Something was very, very wrong. So the Brujah stood up from his corner table and approached the entrance. A crowd had formed in a semicircle and he'd a hard time pushing through the scared 

When he did, Jonas wished he hadn't. What he saw made him feel like choking - although he technical didn't needed to breath. 

Black Orchid was standing with half a dozen of her warriors at the entrance, smirking content. She wore again a black leather suit and her face was again made unrecognisable from the helmet. She's only armed with a gun - most likely phosphorus, but it's impossible to see the difference - and a double-edged sword. Five of her guards wore simple black fighter suits, cloth masks and a small armoury. 

The sixth one had an aura similar to Black Orchid herself. The tall, muscular man was clad totally in black - t-shirt, leather pants, boots and a leather coat which's seam touched almost the boots. He wore a silver mask, under which shoulder-long, platinum blond hair was visible. He flanked his superior with a drawn sword - of course with orchid. 

#How I hate her! This killer will not survive challenging us after everything she did!# "What do you want, Black Orchid?!", demanded Jonas angrily. 

The Assamite smiled, unholy pleasure shimmering in her eyes. "Oh, what I want? Isn't that obvious, my little Brujah? Of course I want your city", she purred seductively. 

This caught him by surprise. #What the hell…?# "You won't get Trinity. Forget it!" 

"Why shouldn't I get it? After all, no one wants this city…" 

"*What*?!" 

"Well, you didn't claimed the Prince's position, Jonas. So it's free. After three weeks still no one wants to become Prince - such an invitation I just can't resist." 

"You'll die for that!", snarled Melanie. 

"Are you really planning on killing your new Prince, fledgling?" 

"You won't become our Prince, Black Orchid! If anyone has the right to claim Lon's position, it's Jonas!", said Miguel. 

"Rather than making you our Prince we'll give ourselves to the Gangrel!" 

"What a cute little crowd you are. Unfortunately, you can't keep me back. Next night I'll come to your Barn and you'll make me your Prince!", prophesied Black Orchid. "Or you'll die." Throwing a superior glance at the crowd, the Assamite turned around and left the Barn with her bodyguards. 

"That *bitch*!" 

"Don't worry, Jonas will kill her and use her head to decorate his living room wall." 

"She won't win. Rather we'll really make a Gangrel Prince." 

"No way she becomes Prince. Who would support her?" 

"Stupid girl, Jonas will teach her a lesson!" 

Silent, Jonas listened to the crowd. He couldn't hear a single voice that agreed with Black Orchid. It warmed his undead heart how everyone accepted him as successor of Lon. Not just the Brujah, also Toreador and Ventrue. 

#Unfortunately, I don't know if I'm worth their trust and admiration. Until this night, I'd been sure that I would sometime become Prince. Sometime. Now I have 24 hours to become Prince and build a Conclave or Black Orchid will slaughter every single kindred at Trinity. And suddenly I'm not so sure anymore that I can fulfil my duty. I'm just a 109 years old Brujah. Nothing special enough to lead a town like Trinity. I'm too immature to deserve being Prince. Hadn't Black Orchid killed my Prince, I hadn't ever thought about becoming Prince myself…# 

Melanie, Miguel and everyone else looked expectantly at Jonas. He was their leader, nobody doubted that. And they expected their leader to give them their orders, to motivate them and reassure them. To show and prove them that nothing was lost, that they could defeat Black Orchid and everyone else who dared to step on his ground. 

#It's time, Jonas. Now show everyone that you can do it, that you're worth of being our leader. There're a few people who doubt that you'll able to follow in Lon's footsteps. And still they'll fight at your side if you want them to. Now it's your turn to show everyone that you're our leader. You can't hesitate any longer. If you hesitate now, we'll die. And I can't allow that. If I have to bang your head against a wall all day…#, thought Melanie. 

#I can't wait any longer. I have to show them that I'm worth of being their Prince. That I deserve their trust and their loyalty. They're so sure that I'll win over Black Orchid - and I'm not sure myself... Angelica, you're ever so proud at me. Please be with me in your thoughts now, wherever you are. Let's just hope that I don't fail them.# 

Jonas climbed onto a massive wooden table to address his citizens, trying to use the people's love for his own advantage. 

"All of us are afraid because of Black Orchid's announcement. But we'll fight her in every way possible and we'll beat her! If you're paralysed with shock, you only help her. We can only help ourselves now, the next city ruled by Brujah is too far away to support us. 

This means we need to hold together. We can't allow ourselves now the luxury of rivalry. We're of different clans, but we're united by being kindred and by wanting revenge for our Prince, our Primogen, our friends, our family members. 

Melanie and me will return to the Prince's mansion to arrange the new Conclave and a battle plan. I don't expect a battle - after all, Black Orchid tries to scare us, she tries to make us panic - until now she didn't dared any fair battle. But I want to be prepared. 

If anyone of you notices something irregular, don't hesitate to inform us. You can reach us at the mansion. I would also like you to rest in turns. Please meet here at sunset and don't worry if we're late. I just want you to be together in case she tries to kill us one after the other. Only hunt in couples. Don't go outside without weapons. Please bring your best weapons here for the meeting. Inform the kindred not present about this. Thank you!" 

"What do you want us to do?" 

"Miguel, don't open the bar this evening. Only allow kindred entry and give the human personnel this night off. We don't need a breaking of the Masquerade additionally. Call the mansion if Black Orchid arrives before us. If you can't reach us there, call me at the cell phone and pager. We'll not sleep today - there's no time for such luxury also. Melanie, let's go! I wish you a not eventful day, ladies and gentlemen!" 

Jonas and his company needed a few minutes to leave the bar. Everyone wished them good luck. No one, though, congratulated Jonas to becoming Prince - he had refused this congratulations. It's too early because he first needed Conclave members, the Brujah said. 

The parking lot was directly to the left of the front door. Melanie sat down at the passenger seat, Jonas drove himself. "I need full security crew at the mansion. Also at the day", told Jonas his assistant. They hadn't had a new head for the security staff, let alone a bodyguard. Because there's no candidate, Melanie pretended to be both. 

"I'll take care of that. But if you want full security at the mansion, I've to withdraw the people from Crete and our houses." 

"That's OK. I only want the really important and inhabited objects to be observed. Call the hotel that they empty our rooms and bring everything to 1113." 

"I'll ask for a kindred because of the weapons", reported Melanie while she's already putting Jonas' orders into action. "I know where a list of all kindred in the city is. Alan told me about Lon wanting him to make one." The Ventrue didn't allowed herself any emotions - the time of grieving was over. Now was the time of acting. 

#Alan wouldn't want me to loose Trinity just because of my grief. He always wanted me to become more like a Brujah, wanted me to not plan this much and do more. Alan always said I had a fierce side and that I was embraced the wrong clan, should've been Brujah to really bloom. He would be proud if he could watch me now.# 

"Good."   


The sky was still dark, when finally all preparations had been finished, all orders had been put into action. All the kindred were now feeling an expecting restlessness - they knew something very big, very important would happen and it drove them crazy not to know why, when and where. 

In Lon's study - he still couldn't bring himself to think of it as his - Jonas was pacing nervously. Again and again he went with Melanie through the list of names, not reaching anything. "Melanie, please do me a favour." 

"Everything!", the Ventrue said eager. 

"Please go to bed. I don't want you to suffer from this. Because it's really of no use when both of us are tired this evening." 

"But…" 

"Just do it, Melanie, will you? I know you're having just good intentions, but I need you to be awake. And I'm in need of some time for myself, frankly." 

"Whatever you wish, Jonas. Which bedroom do you want me to take?" 

Both of them were aware of the importance of his answer, Jonas knew that. "Take the bedroom of the Brujah Primogen." 

For Melanie, this was only politeness. Jonas didn't wanted to offer her a room he didn't owned, a guest or servant room, so he gave her the Brujah bedroom. "Thank you, Jonas. Good night." 

"Good night, Melanie. I'll wake you if I need your help. Please remember to raise early." 

"I will." 

As soon as the young Ventrue had left, Jonas sat down in front of the fireplace and stared into it, considering his options. 

#Most difficult it will be to get a Toreador Primogen. Only eleven Toreador are living at Trinity, so I don't have much of a choice. The first four despise Brujah, the others are jerks… who's that? Clarissa McCarthy, 583 years old, adopted Childe of the Ventrue Prince of Dublin, Ceallach. Hm, that sounds very promising. I never saw her and if I remember this right, she's living for quite a long time here. Oh, she's wanting no contact to the kindred. This makes her the perfect candidate - she won't be grieving.# 

"Siegfried, come instantly to the study", he said through the intercom system. Sitting down behind the bureau, he started to write a letter for his possible future Toreador Primogen. While he's writing, he considered the Ventrue names at Lon's list. 

#No, they're all unacceptable or only a few weeks old. And the remaining four I don't know good enough to make them Primogen. Thomas DiPasquale. Sounds good. U-huh. Italian, embraced three years ago, Childe of… what?! Childe of a Prince? I didn't even knew we're having a descendant of Archon in the city but a Childe of Julian Luna is *really* surprising! 

And it makes him my best candidate by now. He'll know something about Prince business this way - a big pro cause I have no idea. He'll most likely be one of this stiff, old-fashioned Ventrue. Yuck! At least he'll know how to handle money and power. That's a very good pro. Thomas DiPasquale… I've the feeling I heard this name before… Of course! Barn's a customer of them and I'm having an appointment with this guy!# 

A flash of inspiration hit Jonas. He rummaged through the files he got from Miguel in search of DiPasquale's private phone number. By now he remembered that his PR company was a tenant in his high rise, but he's having the data at his office and Eileen would be already asleep by now… 

#That brings me to another problem. Melanie will become Primogen but there's no Brujah candidate and Luna's Childe as Brujah Primogen wouldn't work out - apart from the fact that I would trade one Ventrue for another Ventrue. So she'll be Primogen of the Brujah … A Ventrue truly is promoted to Brujah Primogen. That's a historic premiere!#   


Tom was leafing in the early morning through the Barn's files - preparing for his meeting with the new manager. 

After he'd been hired by the Prince to take care of the merchandise and more or less everything concerning the bar - he claimed that Brujah were just a little bit less made for Toreador jobs than Ventrue - he visited it a few times. To form his own impression of it, of course. Never would he think about visiting a kindred bar. 

When Tom heard that the Prince was killed, it only disturbed him slightly. He's slightly worried if the next Prince would be a die-hard Brujah like the ones that were his Sire's burden or someone as sensible as Lon. Although he hoped for the latter, he wasn't really worried. Everything would work out and with only six people knowing him as kindred, his chances were good to survive the power struggle. 

#Okay, this seems to be a profitable bargain. The Barn is a well doing bar and we can do a lot about the image. Just I don't understand why this damn Brujah have to make an appointment in the middle of the day. Do they want to make profit or torture me? I…# 

The Ventrue was interrupted by his cell phone's ringing. Because only a kindred could call at this time of the night, he hurried to find his phone. It's somewhere in the 312 feet square of his apartment… 

"Tom DiPasquale, good morning", he said cheerful. 

"Prince's mansion, hello. Primogen Jonas Angelini summons you. He wants you to come instantly." 

"Huh?", was all Tom could think of. 

"Primogen Angelini sends for you!", repeated the servant impatient. "Do you wish to be picked up at your house or come yourself, Mister DiPasquale?" 

"Uh… where do you want me to meet him?" 

"1113 Lincoln Drive, the Prince's mansion. You're ordered to come before sunrise." 

"Why does the Brujah Primogen wants to talk to you?" 

"You seem not to be informed about the newest developments, so just obey. He can become very uncomfortable…" 

"I got the hint. Tell the Primogen that I'll be at the mansion in half an hour." 

"Be at time, Ventrue." 

Before Tom could make a harsh remark about Brujah manners - which he would surely regret as soon as he arrived at the mansion - the other kindred already hung up. 

#Hm, that's quite a weird town. I was just three nights ago at the Barn. Why didn't I heard about this "new developments"? Whatever… Better get soon to the mansion, Angelini seems to be top candidate for Prince. Don't want to make the Prince my enemy before he even becomes Prince…#   


In a dark suit - he wanted to honour the killed Prince - Tom drove with his night-black Ferrari to 1113 Lincoln Drive. He'd only been here one time before - when he's introduced to the Conclave by Marcus. Whole 12 minutes he'd seen the impressing baroque building. He'd the gut feeling, though, that he would see it more often in the next time. 

Tom stopped in front of the closed gate, at a loss. When he noticed the intercom, the massive iron gate already opened. Slowly he drove onto the mansion's parking lot. His car had just for a second passed the gate, when it closed already. # Seems like something really happened. When I was here the last time, they didn't closed the gate. And the guards weren't patrolling with machineguns…# 

"I'll park your car", said a Brujah resolute. 

Knowing that he'd no chance against the armed chauffeur - or was he a guard? - Tom turned the engine off and left the car. "That is the car key, this one is for the alarm system. Thank you for parking my car." 

"My pleasure." 

The Ventrue noticed two heavy armed guards following him when he approached the mansion. #Everything seems so tense, like they're expecting an attack…#, he thought. At the house's front door, a servant awaited him. "Good morning, I'm Tom DiPasquale. Jonas Angelini sent for me." 

"I know. This way, please!"   


After the housemaids and butlers went to bed or home, Jonas sat alone in the darkened study. The Brujah tried to prepare himself mentally for the meeting with Julian Luna's Childe. Clara McCarthy was asked to come only after sunset. He didn't wanted to meet them both at the same time - this way he could judge them better. 

McCarthy he could persuade fast into accepting, Jonas believed. She's a vampiress of the old Conclave's era, someone for whom it was a honour to serve the kindred, who believed in manners and duty. 

And he didn't wanted DiPasquale first cause he's eager to meet him - he wanted time to find a replacement, just in case. Like most Ventrue he would want the power and wealth of a Primogen, but Jonas doubted that he's ready to kiss a Brujah's hand for it. And if he did, would he just pretend being loyal and plan to become Prince himself or was DiPasquale someone he could trust? Maybe even someone he could give his city to for a few weeks without worries? 

A soft, almost hesitant, knock at the door brought Jonas back to reality. "Come in." 

"My Primogen, Mister DiPasquale arrived." 

Jonas didn't acknowledged the servant's presence with more than a barely visible nod. Everything he needed. 

Thomas was reluctant because of the many guards he'd passed on his way. But nothing helped when the servant nodded his OK. #Okay, then let's walk into the lion's den…# He entered the noble furnished, dim room hesitant. Tom could see someone sitting in the armchair, so he approached it reluctantly. Behind him, he could hear the door being shut. 

Jonas watched the Latino man with short blonde hair, steel-blue eyes and tanned skin approaching. When their gazes met, he instantly lost all his doubts and worries. 

The Brujah with bronze skin and long, tomato red hair somehow seemed trustworthy - something that surprised him more than he wanted to admit. When Tom looked into his dark-brown eyes, his hesitation disappeared. If friendship at first sight was possible, he's sure that it was like this. 

"Please sit down, Mister DiPasquale", the Italian said in their native tongue. 

"Thank you." Tom was ashamed because of his clumsy Italian. He's born at New York and never cared much about learning languages until he's embraced. "Are you the Primogen?" 

"Yes, that's me. Jonas Angelini, Brujah Primogen. I'm no one to veil the truth and to tell things gentle. So I'll just tell you why I asked you to come, OK?" 

"Okay." 

"I want you to become Ventrue Primogen in my Conclave", Jonas said bluntly. 

Tom stared at the Brujah like he grew a second head. "Huh? Me… Primogen? I…" 

"DiPasquale, let's go to the couch, we have a drink and I tell you what's going on at Trinity?" 

"Sounds good."   


Tom listened intently - and with growing interest - to Jonas' explanations. Although the content was sad and worrying, he enjoyed listening to the Brujah. "Just to be sure that I got this right: This Black Orchid will take over Trinity if you aren't Prince this night and have a Conclave?" #What did I thought about not going to be involved in the power struggle…?# 

"Exactly", sighed Jonas. "I know this isn't how things work usually, but in this case we don't have time to let the clans choose their Primogen themselves. There's just no one left from the usual staff." 

"And you think the Ventrue will accept me?" 

"Sure they will. They'll be ecstatic. And they'll be so busy being happy that they aren't Brujah that they've no time at all to be disappointed by my choice." 

"Why is it good not to be Brujah?", asked Tom confused. 

"Oh, I expressed that wrong. It's good to be Brujah and I'm very happy that I was embraced into the clan Brujah. But… the Brujah Primogen could be understood as embarrassing from some people in my clan. She's… Ventrue." 

"*Huh*?!" 

"You heard right. The Brujah Primogen will be a Ventrue." 

"But why?" 

"I don't have any qualified Brujah. She's the best person available. And she's respected by all Brujah. If the Primogen would be Brujah, he or she would be envied by the other families. For example if I choose someone of Lon's bloodline, they would say I can't forget him. If I choose someone from my own descendants, they would say I favour my own family. So Melanie Hart is the perfect choice." 

"You're sure I didn't by accident am visiting the mirror universe?" 

"I'm pretty sure about that. Although I sometimes ask myself that question", admitted Jonas. "Melanie's Sire is Marcus. He's admired by all Brujah, including myself. He even was my mentor and I became Primogen because of Marcus. Not only at Trinity many Brujah respect him, his advices are generally highly appreciated. Besides, Melanie helped me to organize everything. I listen to every advice of her, I trust her every night with my life. Who could I trust more to take good care of my clan?" 

"But she's Ventrue." 

"My Sire educated me different than most Brujah are educated. Also most Ventrue. I don't see things this one-sided. In some fields she's superior to me. And in others I'm superior to her. Angelica believed that the existence of all clans has some sense. Even that of the Gangrel. Although I doubt this…" 

Suddenly, Tom understood a lot. Excited he repeated, "Angelica? You're a Childe of Angelica? Angelica, Childe of Octavianus?" 

"Yes. What's so special about me being a Childe of Angelica, Childe of Octavianus? She embraced many." 

"Yeah. But she's someone special. At least my Sire told me that. He said that she's not like other Brujah." 

"She isn't", was Jonas' cryptic answer. 

"You *do* enjoy telling half-truths, Angelini." 

Jonas just shrugged nonchalant at this accusation. "Perhaps I do. Will you help me to save Trinity?", he asked serious. 

Tom hadn't had to think about his answer. Without any doubt audible, he said, "I'm honoured to become your Ventrue Primogen." 

"Thank you, Mister DiPasquale." 

Suddenly, they heard panic voices, footsteps and shouts from outside. Both men instantly shifted from easy companionship to battle mode. Jonas went to a cupboard, got both of them swords, machineguns, submachine guns and knives. They're already running down the stairs when Jonas explained, "that's Black Orchid!"   


When Jonas and Tom arrived outside, half a dozen Brujah and Ventrue were already fighting attackers who dared to come over the gate. Others were trying in the meantime to blow it up. 

No surprise that every time the gate was the main target, it's the only way to enter the mansion's grounds. Entering from the private beach was impossible because of observation cameras. And as soon as they're discovered, they wouldn't have a chance in the unknown area without cover. Approaching through the garden was also quite hard because of a five yards high wall with barbed wire that's electrical and more cameras. Especially against the snipers every attacker was defenceless. 

Unfortunately, they couldn't post snipers at the side of the roof facing the street. There's no way the neighbours would accept this as usual security measures… 

It wasn't hard to shoot Black Orchid's masked soldiers as soon as they were visible from this side of the metal gate. Still, Jonas was worried. #How will this day end if it starts like this?# "If we would only have the security cameras working…" 

"They would shoot your cameras anyway", said Tom. 

"Too stupid to do that", reported Melanie calm. "I was at the control room, they're seven a minute ago. They can't even handle the explosives. Fledglings." 

"We killed already three." 

"Then go inside, Jonas, I can handle them." The Ventrue shot another Assamite with practised ease and turned around to her superior. "You anyway shouldn't be involved in such fights, Jonas. That's the job of bodyguards and security guards." 

"I know. But I thought you're asleep." 

"A servant made me raise. We're having a visitor?" 

"Melanie, that's my Ventrue Primogen Tom DiPasquale. Mister DiPasquale, Melanie Hart, Brujah Primogen, my bodyguard, assistant and enforcer." 

"Huh?", said Melanie confused. #What's going on? I'm the Brujah Primogen? That would be just too good to be true…# 

"Of course only if you want." 

"Sure I want!", screamed the dark-haired kindred excited and hugged Jonas fiercely. "You really want me to become your bodyguard? Enforcer I expected, after all you always said I would be a great enforcer, but I never thought you would make me your bodyguard." 

Jonas shrugged like she's doubting the obvious. "If I trust you to take good care of my clan, how could I not trust you to take care of myself?" 

"Cool! That's so cool! Oh goodness! You really make me Alan's successor? I can't believe it!" Melanie beamed like a Christmas tree. Suddenly, she calmed down and frowned at the two men. "And you're instantly going inside! That's too dangerous!" 

"We really have to talk about your rights as my bodyguard. If you command me all the time like this, I'll get myself a Gangrel, he'll be at least nicer than you", teased Jonas. 

"Don't worry, I won't command you all the time. I just want you to be safe and warm and cuddly", grinned Melanie. 

"Is my presence still required? I'm having business appointments now." 

"I'm sorry, Primogen, but no way will you leave now! This is way too dangerous. Most likely fighters of Black Orchid are waiting for someone to leave. Then they'll follow and kill you. You've to stay until we go to the Barn." 

"But…" 

"I agree with Melanie. You better don't leave until you can be accompanied by guards." 

"And that's when?" 

"Most likely not possible at all. I need every guard here because a second attack is possible. Perhaps this was just a distraction." 

"If you insist… Are you going to sleep today, my P…?" 

"No. And it's too early to call me Prince." 

"Then I would like to spend the day with you, Mister Angelini." When the Ventrue noticed how ambiguous this words could seem, he added, "planning, I mean. I'm still not familiar to the actual situation and I would like to be prepared." 

"Sure."   


Not even ruffled, Melanie returned to the Brujah Primogen's bedroom. First, though, she informed a servant to prepare the Ventrue room. Suddenly, it felt totally different to walk down the corridor at the fifth floor that connected the bedrooms of the leaders. For the first time, she really paid attention to the arrangement. 

Directly at the staircase were the rooms of Assamite and Tremere - least protected cause rarely used. Then Nosferatu and Malkavian followed. Next were Gangrel and Toreador - the Toreador had switched rooms with Brujah to get one with view at the garden. The corridor ended after the doors of Brujah and Ventrue rooms at the Prince's small penthouse door. The Prince had - of course - most space that went over the whole mansion's side. 

Melanie was immensely glad that her room was next to Jonas'. What use had a bodyguard when she wasn't present to protect her Prince? And she'd had enough of moving for the next few decades - this was after all her third residence within a month. 

Yawning entered the new Brujah Primogen her room. And flinched at the painful multicoloured design. Now she understood why Jonas was complaining about his predecessor and only stayed here when he's totally and utterly drunk. The woman had had a serious problem with her colour-blindness or taste. 

The bed was made of silver metal and covered with loud peachy satin linen. Wallpaper, covers and fitted carpet were checked in unbearable loud rainbow colours. As if that wasn't enough, the closet, desk, chair and cupboard had a bright red colour. 

#Although the style of furniture gives me a mental breakdown, it's good to be here. I still can't believe that it's now *my* room. What a honour to be the first Ventrue in Trinity's history who's Brujah Primogen under the rule of a Brujah Prince!# "Cool - as soon as I get a good interior designer!" Melanie plopped tired down onto her bed. Before she's able to change into her pyjama, she's already asleep.   


Clarissa was slipping under the covers of her cupboard bed and mentally checked the room. #Curtains are closed, windows too. Door is locked. Something else? No, that's all. Funny, after so many years I still forget my check list…# She laughed. 

The laughter died abruptly when someone banged against Clara's door and the bell was used like a machinegun. #Now I remember: Turning the bell off!# But it's too late now. She could block the noise out, not her pangs of conscience. #Perhaps it's the old lady from 0501. Or the guy from 0502. Maybe Josh has no food and the store isn't open… *Hell*! For once I would like to be Brujah. Then I could just put a pillow over my head, ignore the sounds and have a good day's rest without any disturbance…# The banging got more intense. #A little bit more and I'll get trouble with my neighbours…# 

"Just a minute! I'm coming!", shouted Clara while slipping into a bathrobe. Then she hurried to the door. No biggie in a 60 feet apartment. Flinging the door open, she's ready to shout at whomever dared to disturb her. "What the hell…?!", was all she could say when she saw a strange man in his late forties. He's obviously kindred. Brujah, in fact… 

"Good morning. Are you Miss Clarissa McCarthy?" 

"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?" 

Siegfried looked nervously around. He's pretty sure that they're watched through the spy hole of 0501... But who could take offence at the female Toreador not inviting a strange Brujah inside? "This message I was asked to deliver to you. Rest well, Miss McCarthy." 

"Uh… thanks… the same to you…" Clara was too flabbergasted to inquire the man. When she looked up from the white envelope in her hand, the stranger was nowhere in sight anymore. #Come on, Clara, pull yourself together! Stranger things happened to you already!# 

Like in a trance, Clara closed and locked her door again, sat down at the couch. Careful like it could bite her, she inspected the envelope. At the front was written in a fluid, decorative handwriting her name and address. Neither could she find a sender nor a stamp. She muttered, "well, girl, then open it!" #It's too thin for a letter bomb and bills don't bite. Granted, if they're delivered by Brujah, they maybe do…# 

The notice was written at finest letter paper, the same beautiful hand. "Now I'm curious! "Trinity, February 12th 2004. Dear Ms McCarthy. I request your presence at the mansion at 1113 Lincoln Drive this afternoon. It's essential that you visit me directly at sunset. Because of overhasty business developments since Sunday, your cooperation is desired. Yours sincerely, Jonas Angelini." Hm, that can mean everything. I wish I would know what business developments the Brujah Primogen means… 

I'm just a salesperson and I didn't stole at the mall - his mall. Also the store is running very well, there's no need for him to warn my colleagues and me that we'll get a new employer. Besides, he wouldn't invite us plain employees into the Prince's mansion for that. Apart from the fact that he would rather use his own mansion, if he would invite us into his home. 

So it has to be kindred business. Well, that would even make sense. He's supposed to become the new Prince and this would explain why he requested her to meet him at the traditional residence of Trinity's Prince. Not that it's truly a request. More like an order - and if she didn't obeyed, she would get into major trouble. It's never a good idea to make Brujah angry. Especially not a Brujah who could become Prince …   


Jonas gave Tom a tour through the Prince's mansion meanwhile. "You can decide if you rather live at your own apartment or here. I'll encourage my Primogen to move into the mansion because it's easier to guard until all clans have again full staff. But if you insist to keep your own apartment, I won't force you. That means, Melanie can still force you because she's the chief of security and if she says that we can't guard your apartment house, then you'll have to stay here." 

"Where'll the other Primogen live?" 

"Like I told you before, only three clans are at Trinity. At the moment. I'm sure that when we get rid of Black Orchid new kindred will move to Trinity and also members from other clans. Many doubted that Lon's moderate leadership could ensure their safety, so they stayed away. And when the town was ruined, two clans completely left." 

Cause the room arrangement could turn out as a very tricky question, Tom chose a distraction to gain time. "I didn't knew that Trinity was ruined. Well, I heard about you saving the town, but I didn't knew that it's dramatic enough to force kindred into leaving." 

"They were given their notices just like everyone else. The whole town's industry and the tourism went broke. No investors believed anymore in Trinity, they said you can only make money at a big city. So the rest also had to close. 14 years ago, when the catastrophe started, Trinity still had 72.000 citizens, among them 134 kindred, six clans. Now we've 45.000, among them 72 kindred and three clans." 

"Why did you saved this city?" 

"When you're as old as me, you'll understand. We older kindred don't think the same way you young ones and humans do. We're satisfied with now buying a company for a dirty cheap that brings us profit in 50 years. It's still a good deal. Humans can't allow themselves such investment. They wouldn't live to see their property making profit. For me, it's just fine. 

I believed in Trinity because this town just needs exactly this. People who believe that Trinity can become a great town again and even better than it's before. Corruption, tax evasion, embezzlement and nepotism controlled the town for 34 years, you can't just erase this scars in a few nights. But that companies like yours come now to Trinity is the best prove that we're succeeding. The successes are only slowly visible, but they're", finished Jonas proudly. 

"Why didn't the former Prince stopped this things?" As soon as Tom said it, he regretted his words. It's obvious that Jonas admired his predecessor and he could really get himself a more painless death than getting killed by an angry Brujah… 

Jonas just laughed. Not just the question was funny, also Tom's look of utter horror after his slip of tongue. The Brujah wasn't mad because for him, Tom wasn't more than a teenager. Why should the naïve question of such a young vampire insult him? "Oh, that he did. The old Prince was the head of the people who ruined Trinity. This Malkavian was truly insane, trust me…" 

"I can't believe that a Prince actually destroys *his own* city!", said the Ventrue shocked. 

"Well, seems like the existence of brains isn't ever a requirement to become Prince when you're having powerful friends and a lot of money… Nine years ago, Lon took Trinity over by force. He's having the back-up of all clans but the Malkavian and Nosferatu - who wanted to stay neutral in case of a war - so it's no big problem. But there wasn't much left worth saving. Most companies weren't able to survive another decade, so damaged they're already. 

In the next six years, Lon did everything to rescue as much of Trinity as possible. But he didn't had enough money to rebuild our kindred community and the whole town. The Primogen weren't very old and had just enough money to rescue their own companies. From the beginning, Trinity was a town where young talents learned before they went to the big and dangerous cities - not exactly the best conditions when you need much money, of course. 

Three years ago, the Prince asked me to help Trinity with investing some of my money here. When I visited the town, I was instantly intrigued. Until then, I hadn't visited this area ever and the United States I saw last time almost 80 years ago. So I started negotiations with the owners of almost everything still available and just went home to Italy to get my possessions. I had no responsibilities there, so it's easy. Two years ago everything was settled and I moved to Trinity, buying half of the town…" 

"And it's no big deal for you?" 

"You mean, that I'm so rich that I can just invest dozens of millions in a ruined city and still sleep without trouble?" 

"Uh…" Tom looked ashamed at the expensive carpet he stood at. He's already feeling himself blushing and couldn't think of anything smart to say. 

"Well, it's a good question. Many people wondered this and I'm not so easily insulted, so you can ask whatever you want to. Some kindred are very touchy and some aren't. I'm one of the latter. Concerning my wealth: I can indeed, Mister DiPasquale. I'm a successful businessman with property all over the world that works by itself. Also, I inherited a lot of possessions from my Sire. She's a generous woman and doesn't has any use for money but dresses and jewellery", chuckled Jonas. 

Tom was thoroughly flustered by the Brujah's bluntness. Grown up in a family that only cared for manners and reputation, his so-called friends being the same, he wasn't used to such a behaviour. It's confusing him - especially, because he's liking it. After years of lies, half-truths and roundabout remarks, Jonas Angelini was a very pleasant surprise. 

With an amused smile playing at his lips, the older kindred asked, "cat ate your tongue?" 

"No, just my brains." 

"You feel like seeing the Conclave room now? After that I'll show you your room." 

"Please." 

"Third floor first door. At the first floor are the bedrooms, fifth is attic. Lon's already considering to extend, perhaps I'll do it. Melanie claims I'll get us even more old things then and we're already having way too much of them." 

"Is Melanie your girlfriend?" 

"Thank goodness no! I'm already now having not much say in my own realm, if she would be my girlfriend… Melanie and me are just good friends. Well, we became friends after Sam's death. My Childe Samantha and Melanie were best friends. After the massacre, Melanie was the only survivor and we turned into friends through helping each other grieving. I respected her Sire and she loved Sam like a sister." 

"I understand." Tom was more relieved than he should've been. It was about way more than him being happy that his fellow Ventrue wasn't in love with a Brujah. He just didn't knew whether he's having hopes of Melanie or Jonas… 

#Come on, when you're honest, Tom, you know the answer! But there's no need to scare the nice, charming and likeable Prince away. He's my first chance to get a real friend and I don't want to waste that. Besides, I should find out what a kind of guy this Brujah really is before I actually think about making out with him… Okay, Tom, now you're totally loosing your mind! It's just stupid to even think in such a context about Jonas. About *your Prince*!# 

With interest, Jonas watched the blonde Italo-American turn an interesting shade of red. Again. #Right now I would give a lot to know what you're thinking, young one… I rarely met Ventrue who're like him. He's decent, doesn't looks down at me, is brave enough to face Black Orchid and from a noble family. This Tom DiPasquale is a fascinating person. He seems to be indeed worth of some above-average attention#, mused Jonas. 

"That's the Conclave room. Do you like it?" 

"Mister Angelini, it's great! I love this room!" 

"I'm glad you're satisfied. Perhaps the servants didn't finished your room already, but you can visit it anyway. At the beginning, all rooms were identical. But some Primogen took more care of them, some less. The Ventrue rooms belong to the best furnished and looked after room. Even some books you'll find there."   


While Jonas went to his bedroom to change into clean clothes and get himself new ammunition for his gun, Tom inspected his own. 

The bedroom of the Ventrue Primogen was furnished tasteful with chestnut wood, light beige wallpapers and valuable, old silk runners in different shades of blue onto cork covering. The French doors that led onto a little stone balcony could be covered with heavy light beige curtains or sapphire blue Venetian blinds. 

Tom was instantly drawn to the bookcase and leafed through some works of poetry and ancient legends. Before his embrace, he didn't cared much for anything but his career - now he's able to spend hours listening to classical music and reading highbrow literature. He wasn't enough of a Toreador to actually create works of art himself, but he's able to enjoy them. 

Granted, after this hours he's in urgent need to do some business… Still, Tom was proud at himself for sometimes having intellectual minutes. And most of the time being able to pretend that he's intellectual… 

#The latter is quite helpful when you've got a fiancé like Molly. Since I'm Ventrue, she can't make me feel such stupid and worthless anymore. Now I show her that I'm having as much brains as her and that I don't need her. Goodness, Molly! I promised to call her today and she'll freak if I don't. On the other hand, does it really bothers me if she freaks and my father gives me again hell…? 

Hopefully she doesn't comes to Trinity in the next months. It seems to me like I'll be busy for some time with kindred business - added to getting new clients for our company and surviving Black Orchid. The last thing I need now is her whining all the time that I don't include her into my life and never tell her anything. It's hard enough to explain to my father why I didn't stayed in touch with him and mum for half a year while I worked at San Francisco…# 

Only then, Tom noticed three big files laying at his bedside table with a cell phone and pager. Looking at the first file's description, the Ventrue found out that it consisted of reports and balance sheets from companies that seemed to be owned by his clan. #Hm, seems like someone's very eager to make me working#, he chuckled. 

It knocked at the door and Tom jumped - almost knocking his head against the ceiling. "*Jeez*! Urgh! Uh… come… in!", stammered he. 

Jonas threw the door open and leaned with crossed arms against the frame. With mild interest he looked at his seven years old Primogen. "Flustered?", he asked wryly. 

"No, you just would've scared me to death wouldn't I be dead already", snapped Tom. 

"Fun!" 

"Didn't you wanted to give me a few lessons about the business of your city?" 

"And you're no fun!", sulked Jonas. "Okay, hurry up and let's go back to the study! Oh, bring this files along, you'll need them. And the high tech stuff as well, I paid a lot for that and you're not supposed to go anywhere without it."   


It's two p.m. o'clock when Thomas DiPasquale went with his new Prince to the living room. They'd worked hard and now it's time for some relaxation. Both didn't dared to go to sleep - in case the mansion was attacked again, they wouldn't be fast enough downstairs. So they'd to pass the time till sunset somehow or other. 

"Perhaps we can find something interesting at the European channels", suggested Jonas when no American channel aired anything of interest. 

"Can we watch an Italian?" The Brujah seemed to be very proud at his heritage and not exactly comfortable with English - although his was fluid and almost faultless. Perhaps he would think he's nice because of this offer. #Odd - for the first time since I was embraced I care what a Brujah thinks of me…# 

"Great!" Jonas zapped to the Italian channels. Also nothing interesting. "Oh, that's just crap! I don't want to see that!" 

Tom just shrugged. "Me too. But there's nothing better, Angelini. You aren't having some video cassettes or DVD, are you?" 

"No idea." 

"But you're Primogen for two years! How can you not know what's located here? That's now your mansion." 

"When Lon was still Prince, I didn't spent more time here than necessary. I'm having an own house that isn't bad - nicely spacious, good furnished, high tech. And when he died, I was mourning and stayed at the hotel…" 

"Oh. I'm sorry." 

"No biggie. I'm over it. I mean, of course I'll never stop to care for my Prince and the other victims, but now it's time to stop mourning. Now the best way to grieve for them is to fight Black Orchid. When I've the opportunity, I'll kill her." 

"Hopefully you manage it. I would like to stay Primogen for longer than just a few days…" 

"I hope so too. After all, it doesn't happens often that someone becomes already after seven years Primogen…", teased Jonas. 

"Indeed I'm very lucky!" Smiling he added, "I was lucky to get embraced at all. I was just an average employee at one of Julian's countless companies…" 

"I'm sure that you weren't "just average", DiPasquale. Average people aren't embraced." 

"Maybe. But still I wasn't one of the bigwigs. I just had finished my studies and was supposed to make a practical training period before I join my father's company as junior partner." When he noticed Jonas raising an eyebrow, he explained, "my father is having a big company at New York. I came to Trinity to set our first branch up. I had to leave New York because my parents and associates became suspicious." 

"It took them *seven* years?" 

"Julian made me junior head of the PR department, that's a good excuse to stay another three years at San Francisco instead of one." In thoughts Tom added, #not that anyone would've noticed my lacking change within seven years…# 

"I get it." Jonas couldn't understand why Tom allowed his parents to control his life. If this would be his life, he'd killed them a long time ago. Even if you'd eternal life, you shouldn't waste it. And even if the parents would disinherit him, he still had enough time to found a new PR agency. "Hopefully being Primogen doesn't harms your career plans." 

"Not at all. From the beginning I wanted to become Primogen. Although I'm having a powerful Sire, I didn't believed I would be Primogen within this half of the century. So your job offer was a very pleasant surprise, Mister Angelini…" #Though I planned on relaxing a few decades before I join the next power struggle. I'm *still* tired of what I was dragged into at San Francisco. And now I'm myself a top candidate for assassination by an Assamite killer. Even free of charge… *That* definitely wasn't written in the job description!# 

"Oh, I hope so, young one", said Jonas in an ambiguous tone. #Would be a pity to waste such a talented person like you to San Francisco and it's Ventrue Prince…# "Uh… do you want Italian or Chinese?" 

"Pardon?" 

"Usually it calms me down to chew at something. Do you want me to order lunch? We can get food and share the deliverer." 

"I'd rather have another of this doughnuts." 

Jonas raised one eyebrow. At his face was a mix of surprise and amusement. When Tom first saw him snacking at baked goods instead of humans, he'd been somewhere between hysteria and fit of laughter. But who could take offence in it when it's from his own stall? "Doughnuts and extra strong coffee to pass the afternoon?"   


In the hours till sunset, the two males found out that they happened to enjoy each other's company. From business experiences, their conversation went to family and Sires. When the sun disappeared behind the horizon, they're talking about themselves. Their lives, pasts, what they believed in and what they're hoping for at Trinity. 

"I know it's hard to explain and sounds stupid. But I can't just break up Molly. It would hurt my father because he's still believing that everything around him is working exactly the way he wants it to. He knows that I don't love Molly, but he never gave much thought to the reason. Besides, dad's still believing that marriage is about strengthening of the friendships between business partners, not about minorities like love…" 

"Okay, you've won. You're in deeper shit than me!" 

"But I can imagine that it's no fun to have a Sire who's just suddenly appearing out of nothing and turns your life upside down. Fortunately, Julian prefers to mind his own business. He's having enough problems of his own to make himself even more work." 

"Yeah, I heard sometime about the problems San Francisco had a few years ago. When Angelica told me about the Prince being almost every week almost assassinated, I didn't believed her. At Italy, we're also fighting, but we never went this far for a few centuries already. She usually exaggerates because she thinks it's a skill of good bards and she believes she's a bard in a former life. Well, that's another subject, so…" 

"It's true. Maybe it's even worse than what you're told. Usually, Julian doesn't tells everyone what's going on. Of course it's possible that he knows your Sire from the past. I'm not really familiar with his background. He prefers not to tell me anything about what happened before he embraced me." 

"Doesn't that feels strange? I know almost everything about Angelica's past. Only with her love affairs I'm not familiar - I didn't wanted to hear too much about them." 

"At the beginning, it felt very strange. But I got used to it. Julian's not such a bad guy when you get to know him…" 

"I don't doubt that. Hey, who am I to judge your Sire when my own Sire is sometimes behaving like a crazy hussy?" 

"You're not talking too nice about her", stated Tom the obvious. 

"I love her, but I'm not blind to her mistakes. And just like everybody she's having many. Besides, Angelica doesn't minds when you say her what you're thinking about her. For Angie, everything's a big game. Whole life is - although she's already 800 years old she just can't grow up and behave like an adult!", chuckled Jonas. 

"That's really bad. At least my Sire's behaving sensible. Well, most of the time - as long as no pretty mortal woman is around…" 

"Don't worry, that's nothing unusual. And your Sire is Prince of a city. Mine is too busy travelling through the whole world, causing everywhere she goes trouble and mental breakdowns to get herself her own city. She wants to, but she doesn't likes being bound to one city." 

"That's interesting. I only knew about Gangrel being wanderers." 

"Some Brujah are too. Very few, but such a group is existing. In fact, in all clans are some kindred who prefer to travel than gaining power and wealth. Even if you can't imagine such a thing, considering that you're the Childe of Julian Luna…" 

Tom's attention was now totally focused on Jonas. "Why can't I understand "such a thing" because of my Sire?", he asked with confusion, suspicion and a little bit of hostility. 

"Don't Frenzy, young Ventrue", chuckled Jonas. "Just wanted to get your attention. And… well, Archon Rayne already was Prince of San Francisco. So Luna never left the city after his embrace. And if I remember this right, Rayne also stayed after he came to California - before or shortly after his own embrace." 

"Well, perhaps I'm not like my ancestors… The DiPasquale family came only in the last century to America. In almost every state my family lived since then. We only stayed at New York cause there's the head office of DiPasquale PR. I grew up at Miami, visited a boarding school at Switzerland before I attended a college at Houston, Texas, went to the universities at Los Angeles, Seattle and Paris, worked at San Francisco and New York and now moved to Trinity." 

"Not bad for a 32 years old", commented Jonas with new respect for the young Ventrue. He's now even more satisfied with his choice. And he didn't was ashamed to show it. Games just weren't his special field. 

#The small-town Ventrue here at Trinity admire people who're worldwide experienced and have a good education. If he doesn't turns out as a clumsy fool, Tom shouldn't have a hard time getting accepted as Ventrue Primogen. And his famous Sire can be of use for myself. Luna won't plot against his own Childe - means one Prince less who wants me to die, preferably yesterday.# 

"Thank you. It seems to me, though, as if you also aren't new to the world." 

"No, that I'm not. When you're 109 years kindred, you see a bit from this planet. Of course, I focused my attention on Europe. I didn't fancied America. I still don't." 

"Why?" 

"Because I still can't figure you Americans out. Just when I believe I've found out what makes you tick, you do something totally contradictory…" 

"And that's unnerving?", chuckled Tom. #Strange guy! Strange and weird, but cute. Hm, very cute… Distance, Tom! *What the hell* are you thinking?! He's Brujah, he's your Prince and you'll maybe have to share a house for the next decades with this guy! So the least think you blockhead could do to survive a little bit longer than just this night is not to bring yourself into more trouble than you do all the time!# 

""Unnerving"? It's driving me into Frenzy!", laughed Jonas. He winked mischievous at Tom, his dark-brown eyes twinkling fond of life. Just for a moment, the future Prince managed to forget why he's sitting here. Why he turned from unreliable, rebellious Brujah Primogen who only thought about the next club night to Prince of Trinity, the man every kindred at this town set his hopes on… 

"I see Mister DiPasquale is good for you, Jonas", teased Melanie. She's leaning in the doorframe and watched her Prince with an affectionate smile at her lips and eyes. 

Tom blushed instantly. "Good evening, Miss Hart." 

"Hi Melanie, please sit down with us. How are you?" 

"Good, considering the circumstances, Jonas. Tom, we're not this formal. You rather call me Melanie -if we don't get more nearness into this Conclave, the next decades will become very boring. Of course I wonder if Jonas is able to stay Prince for decades…" 

"What're you implying?!", frowned the Italian. 

Melanie sat down at the Brujah's laps and hugged him. "You're quite a hot-tempered guy, Jonas… The important job's already harming your nerves, huh?" 

"Melanie!" 

"Okay, okay, calm down. I just meant that with all your different hair-colours you'll have a hard time to gain the respect of all the businesspeople in the town. The people now know what you did for Trinity. The next generation won't. And as I know you, they'll then be found drained and you'll be searched by the police…" 

"Hm, you're right… By the way, I'm considering getting a tattoo. For the beginning one at the arm or shoulder." 

"Cool! I'll also get myself one. As soon as I found a good motive. What's with you, DiPasquale?" 

"No, I won't." 

"Why? Are you afraid of the pain? My boyfriend Alan had a lot of tattoos and he told me that it didn't hurt much." 

Jonas noticed Tom's helpless glance and chose to have pity with him. "Melanie, not all Ventrue are as adventurous as you and like so much modern things. Most of them are boring and old-fashioned, you remember?" 

"Hey! That's my clan by accident!", exclaimed she indignant. 

"And still you tend to forget that. Marcus was a very modern and open-minded Ventrue, Melanie. You'll get used to the majority of them not being like that. Mister DiPasquale is one of the more modern ones with his philosophy of life and opinion, but don't exaggerate, will you?" 

"I'll behave myself, promised. And if the damn Toreador bitch doesn't gets her hide here in the next minutes, I'll drag her to the mansion by her hair!" 

"I see you're embracing your charge clan's nature", snorted Jonas. 

"I'm just trying to raise the mood. But it seems like the two of you need to be alone for another few moments… I'll prepare your study for Miss McCarthy's arrival and look through some papers - that'll keep me busy for another couple of hours. If you don't mind, I would like then to go to The Barn. Meet my new clan and that stuff." 

"I'm sorry, but we shouldn't give the advantage of surprise up. Apart from that I need my bodyguard nearby." 

"Okay. But if your Brujah get a heart attack when you announce me as their new Primogen, I won't take the responsibility!" Just then, she noticed a big, empty doughnut box. "You're again eating so unhealthy? Guys can lead a town but can't order themselves food!", she muttered under her breath. "Lemme get you two bowls of cereals to compensate that." 

"But we can't get sick because of too much sweets, Miss Hart", complained Tom. 

"Well, I don't know how you're proceeding, Mister DiPasquale, but Jonas, Eileen and me have every night five meals. It's way easier to eat usual food when you do it regularly. And when you're all night at the office, it's hard to make no one suspicious when you never have a snack or go to the canteen." 

"I've the same problem. Usually I have to take a snack and lunch. Urgh! Sweets are tasty, but I so don't want to eat ever again this squashy, disgusting canteen beef! 

"Yuck!" Jonas pulled a face. "But it'll get better. I'm going to fire the chef. Or kill him. I'm still not sure because he deserves both. He's a loser and he can't even make French fries!" 

Just then, Siegfried appeared in the door. "Sir, Miss McCarthy just arrived. I brought her into your study." 

"Thank you. Melanie, please call Miguel and ask him if everything's OK at the Barn. If your help is necessary, I'll call you. But I try to handle Miss McCarthy by myself to give you some free time before the big battle. DiPasquale, you're free to make yourself comfortable. Please consider your residence options. You'll have to decide till I got my Toreador Primogen because otherwise I'll offer the Ventrue room to the Toreador. If no Ventrue stays here, your clan surely won't mind to not live at another one." 

"I'll need this room myself, Mister Angelini." Tom had already considered his future residence. And he didn't wanted to waste the advance of having 24 hours access to the Prince. The Ventrue hadn't a high position at Trinity, there's no need to make it worse himself. He'd seen how much easier it was at San Francisco for the Primogen who lived with Julian. Cameron needed an audience, Lillie, Cash and Daedalus could just meet him for breakfast… 

"Good. I'll see both of you later." 

"Well, Tom, how much time do you intend to spend here? The mansion is great. It really is. I like the atmosphere of power here. Everything in this house feels old and dignified. That's the place I wanted to live in already when I was human. My family lived at a shack, but I preferred such places of residence. Of course you aren't forced to stay all the time." 

"Oh, but I plan to spend most of my free time here. Your mansion is a good place to live at." 

#Hm, that's quite a surprise. I didn't expected him to take the dare already now. Well, it seems like Thomas DiPasquale is absolutely like I want my Primogen. And that he's good company - in every way - is a good addition to my housemates.# 

"I hope so. Well, I've to go to my study and call Miguel. He's the Toreador in charge of the Barn until they got a new Primogen, if you don't remember him. If you want to, you can talk to some of the servants. Three of them are Ventrue. For everything else, just ask Siegfried, OK?" 

"Thank you." 

"See you later, Tom." 

"Later, Melanie."   


Clara waited impatiently at the study. She'd been led here by Siegfried, who seemed to be the chief servant, and didn't liked it too much. At the moment, she's just a sales clerk, but she's still a Toreador. A centuries old Toreador! She deserved better than being treated like a nuisance. Her very present at Trinity was a honour for the Prince and her Primogen! 

#Well, it's no surprise that this people have terrible manners and don't even know to which room to bring a guest. Lon already doesn't cares much for good behaviour, how can his servants then? Lon… Hm, it's really strange that his pet Primogen Marcus isn't around. When I think about it… the few times I visited the Prince's mansion, I never met any of this servants…# just then, Clara's thoughts were interrupted by the opening door. 

The Toreador plastered a faked charming smile at her face and stood up to greet her Prince. It'd to be Lon because this was, after all, the study of Trinity's Prince. Seeing the Brujah Primogen entering with another terrible hair-colour only confused her. 

Jason returned the fake smile and approached the obviously petulant woman. "Miss McCarthy, it's nice to meet you." 

"Mister Angelini?" 

"Yes. Please sit down again." 

"Uh… thanks? Uh… are you going to sit down in the Prince's chair?" Clara cursed silently her nervousness. 

"I will. You really should sit down now, Miss McCarthy. It seems to me like you're not informed about the actual situation at Trinity. Some… changes took place." 

"I see." 

"No, you don't. You most likely believe that I'm going to revolt against Prince Lon. But that's not true.. absolutely not. Because the Prince… is dead." 

Clarissa gasped in shock. "When? How? How can you be so cool about it? Why didn't anyone told me? Who'll become Prince? When…" 

"Stop… *stop*! I need you to calm down before you hyperventilate. I understand that you're worried about the power vacuum we've now at Trinity and indignant that no one informed you. In fact, I'm surprised myself. The newspapers reported some days about a violent attack of the mansion by rivals of Lon." 

"I didn't heard anything about that, I'm sorry. Will you please explain me what happened? I was at vacation." 

"Sure. Three weeks ago, the mansion was attacked while we had a Conclave meeting. I couldn't be present at this, though. Black Orchid, a… oh, your reaction tells me that you're familiar to her work - killed the Prince, both other Primogen and almost everyone at the mansion's grounds. All guards and most staff members were also killed, many succumbed to their injuries later." 

"How…?" 

Like so many times before, Jonas Angelini told her as good as he's able to what had happened at this fateful night only a few weeks ago. 

The explanation left Clara breathless. She knew about the viciousness of Black Orchid, but she'd never been this close to one of her attacks. When the feared Assamite terrorist was near, her Sire had advised her to flee. This woman just wasn't anyone a peace-loving Toreador like her wanted to meet. No one did. 

#You better focus now, girl! Yes, Jonas Angelini is the only survivor, he's good-looking and without doubt filthy rich. But you've to keep in mind that he's Brujah and they don't know loyalty. Maybe he even hired Black Orchid himself. With Lon not being anywhere near loosing his position or leaving for another city, his chances to become Prince are… were very slow. Marcus was above him in the long line of possible successors. Maybe even John. And in a few decades, Alan would've been able to become the next Prince of Trinity. Why not wait another couple of years and then make your own Childe your successor…? 

Yes, I have every right to doubt his "noble" intentions. Jonas and this Ventrue chick clinging to him always when I saw him are the only ones profiting from this mass-assassination. And I don't credit her with such a violent plot, she seems to be pretty much the brainless one. Hm, the last years I saw her usually with Alan. Maybe she started a love affair with Jonas and they're afraid anyone could find out…?# 

"Is something wrong, Miss McCarthy?" #Is she really imagining she has a poker face? It's *such* obvious that she distrusts me! Maybe even believes that Melanie is my girlfriend…# 

"No, nothing at all. I just wondered who's profiting from this terrible act of destruction and violence." 

The Brujah didn't even blinked. "Well, that I would like to know myself. If we knew who's benefiting from this, we would find her client fast. And then maybe we could even punish both for what they did. Most Princes fear Black Orchid and not even the Assamite support her anymore - I can't think of anyone who would give her asylum. But as hard as we're working at this, we're without success till now. Of course, if you've any ideas, my bodyguard is surely willing to listen to you." 

"Oh, that's a generous offer. But I don't know who's responsible. I'm just a salesperson." 

"And you're a many centuries old Toreador. Someone who could be Prince. Instead you're content with selling panties…" 

"I can't believe that! How can you accuse me of the assassination of the Prince! That's terrible!" 

"Of course. But you're accusing me of the same act. With the same reasons." 

"I didn't…" 

"But you believed - even if just for a moment - that I'm responsible. You considered me having hired Black Orchid. And you're having your reasons for distrusting me. But the same reasons don't apply if you're accused, do they?", Jonas asked calm. He hadn't expected anything but prejudices and distrust, so he could handle the Toreador's reaction. 

#This seems to be the way everyone treats the members of my clan. Everyone but Marcus. I wish I could speak to him now, could ask for his advice, companionship and comforting words. Just for a couple of minutes… Marcus always was able to make me see the important things hidden in a mess, to make the right decision at the right time, to differ between friends and enemies…That Marcus is gone forever hurts me more than my Prince's death. Although he's a Ventrue and although I should hate him…# 

"Let's just assume I'd ordered Black Orchid to attack the mansion at exactly this time. Very well, I saved my own hide. And I saved Eileen. Maybe I even managed to keep Melanie the important minutes away. But why didn't I saved Marcus and my most beloved Childe as well? They're closest to my family anyone ever can get and still I let Black Orchid kill them merciless. Why? Can you answer me this question?" 

"Maybe… You… I…" 

"You don't know?" 

"No, I don't." 

"Then please don't distrust me. Give me at least enough credit to be able to save my loved ones." 

Clara heaved a sigh of relief. Against better knowledge, she'd hoped the black-haired Brujah Primogen to be the person he claimed to be. The one man who could save Trinity from the Assamite terrorists and secure them a future. "Okay, I guess I can give you a try. Will you now *please* tell me why my judgment is so important to you, Mister Angelini? And why you're at all meeting with me in this troublesome times?" 

"Because I need you. The clans agreed on letting me choose the Primogen. We don't have time for the usual procedure, so they trust my judgement. And believe me, it's not an easy job. Maybe it's even easier to rule this town than picking the other players… But that's not the point!", Jonas chided himself. "I chose to make you Toreador Primogen, Miss McCarthy." 

The only answer Clara could think of was, "*huh*?!" 

"Yes, you heard right. You'll become my Toreador Primogen." 

Clara was absolutely stunned. She hadn't expected any promotion at all - rather getting kicked out of the city. Primogen was such a surprise that the old Toreador's unable to talk. #I can't believe it! Wow! Few things can surprise you when you're as old as me and men need to do quite a lot for it. But this young Jonas Angelini now really managed to dumbfound me! How will he be after he's lived another couple of centuries? Will he make Ceallach black out from surprise when he's just reading aloud the movie reviews…?# 

Jonas thoroughly enjoyed the effect his declaration had. Not often you got to see a gaping Toreador. "Are you going to accept anytime soon or will you just stare at me all night?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"Well, you're staring at me…" 

"Sorry. I'm really sorry, my Prince. But before I accept such an important position I would like to know at least who the other Primogen will be. I don't fancy becoming the only liberal Primogen among die-hards for whom my clan's degenerated." 

"Oh, I fear I don't know how the Ventrue Primogen thinks about Toreador, but the Brujah Primogen is indifferent to this matter, I think to remember. She hadn't had much contact to your clan till now. At least not enough to have an opinion in this matter. Mister Thomas DiPasquale was until now not an active member of the kindred community at Trinity, he moved only a couple of months to us from the East Coast. He owns the only PR agency at this town and his Sire is Julian Luna, Prince of San Francisco. 

Melanie Hart is my bodyguard, assistant in all matters concerning kindred business and my enforcer. You'll surely have met her before. She's messenger of the Prince. Black ponytail, brown eyes, brown skin, quite tall and muscular. She's only such a close friend since the assassination, in case you wonder. Melanie is the Childe of Marcus and former girlfriend of Alan." 

"But then she's Ventrue!" 

"Yes, she is." 

"But… but that's impossible! Absolutely impossible! No Ventrue can become Brujah Primogen! That doesn't makes any sense and is totally insane! I mean, she's a Ventrue if she's the Childe of the former Ventrue Primogen Marcus and she'll become Brujah Primogen - which's absolutely not making any sense at all. I don't understand your logic and I don't dare to try - no matter if you'll become Trinity's next Prince or not. 

She can't represent a clan she doesn't belongs to. Melanie Hart can't know what the Brujah clan needs, what her inferiors want and how to push their interests through in the way a Brujah would do it. And she'll be in a clash of interests. Brujah and Ventrue are no big friends. On the one hand she has to fight the Ventrue as merciless as possible - maybe even plot a clan war against them - and on the other hand she won't want to harm her own clan mates." 

Jonas was having a good time because of the Toreador's panicked reaction. Yes, he liked confusing people and then watching them going into hysterics - as long as he wasn't a victim. Surely it would become fun to unveil the new Brujah Primogen to all the other kindred at Trinity. If their reaction could match McCarthy's only a little bit, it's worth the effort… 

"Miss McCarthy, please calm down. You're again near hyperventilating. Although kindred can't suffocate, it won't be very good for your make-up if you get foam at your face. And you don't want to ruin your looks, do you?", he asked just too sweet. 

"Oh god! I need to repair my make-up! Excuse me for a minute, my Prince. Can you please tell me where the rest room is?" 

"You're looking great, believe me. And your make-up is just perfect. This was merely a warning in case you didn't considered that panicking could be bad for your looks. I noticed this at Melanie, she's always mad at me when I didn't calmed her down before she ruined her hair-do. Now let's go back to the subject at hand. I fear I can't give you much time to come to your decision. If you want to become Toreador Primogen and save Trinity from Black Orchid, you say now yes. If you hesitate, I'll have to pick someone else. We neither have the luxury of time nor the luxury of clan hostility." 

"Oh! Oh, I understand, Mister Angelini! You made Miss Hart Brujah Primogen until you've found a Brujah. Now it makes sense, of course…" 

"That's pretty much the idea. But if Miss Hart makes her job good and the Brujah accept her, she'll stay in this position." #And I'm absolutely sure that she'll be a great Primogen for my clan mates. Most likely she'll be better than I was. Melanie just knows how to handle people. Especially Brujah. She's so very much like her Sire…# 

The dark-haired woman snorted mentally. #You really believe I would believe you this, Brujah wanna-be Prince? You'll never let the little Ventrue chick stay Primogen for longer than half a year. She's having good looks, granted, but she's too dumb for a long-time girlfriend. Just a little girl who warms your bed - even if you deny it. In a few months, Jonas Angelini, you'll be tired of Hart and then you dump her for a more beautiful girl. Which you'll make Brujah Primogen to keep her from leaving… Men are *such* predictable!# 

"Well, in that case I'm eager to find out how long she'll keep her position." 

"It's nothing of your business and I don't care if you're eager to find out about that." Jonas got more and more impatient. This Clara McCarthy seemed to be nothing but a waste of time. Now he'd only a couple of hours left to find a Toreador Primogen and lost the whole day! #Stupid Toreador! Didn't I told her that I'm in a hurry?# "You didn't answered my question, Miss. I *really* need your answer. Now." 

#It's not my dream to be Primogen with a Brujah as Prince and I really liked living as a mortal more than the lying and plotting kindred society. And still I'll do it. Damn my morals! I shouldn't care about this city and Black Orchid, but unfortunately, I care a lot. This people need a Toreador now, or Black Orchid forces my clan mates to appoint one of her lackeys to their Primogen. And if she's having just one person at Angelini's Conclave, Trinity is lost. This Brujah was never before Prince, he's young and the Primogen are even more inexperienced. They stand no chance against a streetwise mob boss and terrorist like Black Orchid. I, in the contrary…# 

Simply and without emotion, Clara said, "okay." 

""Okay"?" 

"Yes. I'll do it." 

"Great! I'm glad you decided we're worth of your assistance. And frankly, we need someone with experience in our team. I'm glad that you're this person." 

"Don't I get congratulations? Maybe a glass of champagne to celebrate?" 

"Sorry, but we don't have time for that, Miss McCarthy. I realize you Toreador prefer a fine lifestyle, but at the moment the only lifestyle that can keep us alive is the one in which you use guns. I wonder if you're able to fight." 

"Don't worry about my fighting skills. My shooting skills are quite considerable and I'm familiar with martial arts." 

"Perfect! But… how did you learned fighting?" 

"We Toreador like arts. And fighting can be a sort of arts. We exercise martial arts to learn to command our body exactly in the way we want it to. Martial arts also help to make you understand your body better and become more agile. I learned to handle a rifle when I was at the marines." 

"Then you'll surely like the selection of weapons at our armoury downstairs. We're having pretty much all weapons that are useful against kindred." 

"Thanks. But I would prefer if there's no fight. I heard that the Barn is a Toreador business and a battle in the middle of our club won't be good publicity." 

"I'll do my best to avoid a fight. So many kindred died at the big attack three weeks ago - and many others moved away - that we can't afford loosing more people. In the last decades, this town's kindred community's number decreased dramatically. After we got rid of Black Orchid, my main goal will be to recover Trinity's economy. Only then kines and kindred alike will move again into this town." 

"The Toreador will support you in this protect. From Trinity's growth will my clan will profit the most. But how will you manage that, Mister Angelini? You invested millions of dollar into this town - with visible success - but at some point your money alone isn't enough. I'm not a businesswoman, but I can see that it won't be enough in the long run to save the existing firms. We need big companies who're willing to build their new factories at Trinity…" 

"…investment incentive, economic growth that convinces citizens to move to this town and investors to put their money into it, the army base has to be enlarged, we need more tourists - for which we've to get rid of my coal power plant - we need to attract more self-employed persons and have to change the reputation of Trinity entirely. And that are just the things I can think of spontaneous." Jonas sighed heavy. "This town isn't an easy job." 

"And as long as Black Orchid is here, we don't have any future at all. Every night she can slaughter us like our predecessors…" 

Jonas decided that worrying about things they couldn't change at the moment wouldn't be good for the morale. So he forced himself to smile and stood reluctantly up. "If you don't have anymore questions, I would like to give you in Siegfried's care now, Miss McCarthy. He'll show you to the rooms of the Toreador Primogen. If you need fresh clothes, he'll ask one of our female housemates to borrow you some. Oh, and Siegfried will give you a tour, if you want to. Just carry *always* the pager and cell phone you'll find in your room with you. We'll inform you as soon as we get informations about Black Orchid." 

"Sure. Well… I'll see you later, Mister Angelini." 

"See you later, Miss McCarthy. Siegfried will help you if you need something."   


While Melanie and Clara rested, Jonas sauntered through the garden. They'd a beautiful fountain halfway between mansion and beach. When it wasn't warm enough to take a bath in the bay - which's at the most three months possible - this was his favourite place. Looking at the now steaming water - heating it's the only way to keep the fountain from freezing - calmed him down. 

"What're you doing out here? It's only around ten degree." 

He scowled at the Ventrue for a moment, surprised and annoyed by the unexpected company. "Huh? DiPasquale?" 

"Yeah. I thought it would be nice to get a breath of fresh air. So, are you intending to deep-freeze yourself?" 

"I could ask you the same." 

"Oh, right. Well, like I said…" 

"I like this place." 

"You know that it's insane to have a fountain running at this temperature, don't you?" 

"Yeah, I guess I do - but I need some nice things around me, even in winter. When I agreed to move to Trinity, nobody told me that it's such cold here. I'm used to Mediterranean climate. It's terrible cold here all year!" 

"But less sunshine as well." 

"It isn't worth the freezing, believe me. You can get used to living in a region with much sunshine as kindred." 

Tom shrugged, more or less affirmative. #I guess it wouldn't be proper behaviour to contradict the Prince. And I can't really claim that I'm not sharing his opinion…# The Ventrue turned his attention back to the fountain - sometime the water was freezing in mid-air, sometime it fogged - watching it in companionable silence with Jonas. 

After a couple of minutes, the blonde started to feel uncomfortable. It wasn't really the cold that bothered him, more his clammy clothes and the icy air burning in his lungs. Because he wasn't sure whether to invite Jonas for a warm drink, Tom sauntered back to the mansion without a goodbye. 

Jonas watched the other male taking his leave under his lashes. It'd been strange to stand here with a Ventrue who was neither Marcus nor Melanie. And it's even more weird knowing the odds were even that he didn't survived the night. 

#Maybe this is the last time I stare at the fountain. Maybe I'll not life to take again my time to watch the stars. Maybe I'll follow my friends and my family tonight into death for good. Yeah, I'm able to think the words - and I'm sure that I could say them aloud if I wanted to. The first time I can acknowledge calm and without much emotions that almost everyone I cared for at this city is dead… I wonder how they've felt in the last minutes of their lives… no! I shouldn't think about that right now. I can't. If I think about it, I'll go into Frenzy. And then I'm of no use for my people. I should go inside and lie down for a couple of hours. Yeah, that'll do me good. And maybe then I have another chat with Tom…#   


In his quarters did Jonas exactly that. The penthouse's living room/bedroom - with door to a big roof terrace - was furnished in light, soft colours and Asian design. But there's not a single personal thing in the room - not even trash, books and flowers like in the rest of the house. The only things that you could accept as Jonas Angelini's personals were countless suitcases, wardrobe trunks and pasteboard boxes. Some of them were opened, the contents spread out at the cork carpet. 

Said kindred laid at the couch, bare feet propped against one armrest and head at the other. He wore tight black denims and a likewise skin-tight, sleeveless, white shirt that emphasized his bronze skin. With no expression at all at his face, he watched an action movie. 

#Much explosions, much "dead" actors - I can have that every night for true! The only good thing at this apartment is that I got a brand-new - and modern - furniture cause Black Orchid's folks destroyed the old. I should've used the money rather to buy a television station… # He switched with the remote control through a dozen channels - non broadcasting anything of interest for the Brujah. #If I'd persuaded Eileen already to go shopping with me for a computer, I could surf the net now… Damn my laziness!# 

Just when Jonas was ready to smash his TV and offer a bounty for the TV channel's president's head, his pager ringed. The moment he read the short text message written by Miguel, he's already at the door with superhuman speed. Through the intercom, he shouted, "Siegfried! I meet Conclave and fighters at the armoury!"   


The armoury in the basement was a pretty small, windowless storeroom with plain, white walls, concrete floor and plywood shelves. But the meaningless, untidy room contained an amount of weapons that would most likely be sufficient to equip the army of a small country. 

The shelves - at two walls - accommodated mainly traditional weapons like swords, daggers, knives. At the third wall hanged bigger stuff like bows and arrows, bullet-proof vests, machetes, fighting staffs and extremely long swords. The fourth wall was covered up to the ceiling with crates - filled with several kinds guns, ammunition, grenades and other "toys" for the Prince's guards. 

"Oh, you're already here", stated Jonas when he met three guards at the armoury. 

"Aye, but that's no biggie. We're all the time down here cause we checked the guns like you ordered, Jonas", a petite Englishwoman said. 

"You had time to finish your work, Anne?" 

"We did seven and a half crates. I suppose this' enough. And if we need more, me and my team will take the not checked weapons. I've heard rumours that you got all three Primogen and also a bodyguard. I would like to meet him or her soon because we'll have to work together at security." 

"Don't worry, you'll like all of them. I can't tell you already who the Primogen are, but the bodyguard is Melanie." 

"That'll rock Wisconsin!", a guard who'd just entered said. 

"Yeah, I guess so. But I couldn't think of any better bodyguard. And we know all that we can't allow ourselves to care about clans, at the moment. Frankly, I'll rather survive with a Ventrue bodyguard than die with a Brujah bodyguard. Not that I would want to imply, Anne, that you and the other Brujah guards don't do a good job…" 

"…but your personal bodyguard needs to do more than shoot and patrol", said Anne with an understanding nod. 

"Exactly!" 

"Melanie is a good woman. I trust her and don't care to which clan she belongs. I'm sure that most of the other guards share my opinion and you won't get any trouble because of this decision. I, for my part, would even like to have her as Primogen. Unfortunately the chances are almost zero with her being Ventrue and me Brujah…" 

"Never say never, Anne…" 

Jonas put a bullet-proof vest on - he hated bullets in his chest - and looked for some nice weapons. Since the attack in the morning he hadn't laid his gun aside while being inside, but he needed additional weaponry in case they fought Black Orchid. The soon-to-be Prince picked another couple of guns with much spare ammunition, his sword - which he'd kept here while the police was in the mansion - and a knife. 

#Well, I guess that's enough. We'll have to enter the Barn, after all, and the neighbours will get suspicious if we're armed like for war. On the other hand, they'll also get suspicious as soon as they hear battle sounds from inside. They'll call the police, most likely. Well, if this night doesn't becomes an absolute catastrophe, we'll have left before the police arrives or only kindred police officers come. Which, of course, is very unlikely cause Young will jump at the chance to catch his first murderer as commander of the homicide squad already in the act…#   


The atmosphere in the overcrowded Barn wavered between hysteric, scared and furious. The kindred of Trinity - who're conscientious enough to wait in the club since sunset - were protected from a couple of guards and the braver members of their small community. They'd founded more or less a vigilante group to patrol around the bar and protect the helpless people inside. 

Jonas and Melanie, who'd been very much interested in this solution, had even sent some guards from the mansion to assist them. Members of the real security staff were necessary to keep the overzealous "civilians" from starting a gun battle as soon as Black Orchid and her troops arrived. They wouldn't stand any chance against the skilled elite soldiers, no matter how good their intentions were. 

"Here's your non-alcoholic beer, Sir. I'm really sorry, but I'm forbidden to serve alcoholic beverages. It's just too dangerous with Black Orchid." 

"Of course, I understand that." 

"Hey, can I please get another coke?" 

"Kid, if you drink more coke, the caffeine will get toxic…!" 

The teenage Brujah groaned and rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "I'm gonna get a drink if I tip you with a kiss?" 

"Depends on…" The teasing mood vanished as soon as Miguel saw the front door open. #I don't believe anyone's missing and Jonas would call first…# 

Indeed, 12 black-clad, heavy armed kindred entered with professional calmness. Two guards in the usual outfits went inside first and aimed their phosphorus machineguns at the instantly frightened crowd. As soon as the Barn was safe for them, the golden-masked Black Orchid entered with her silver-masked deputy, weapons not drawn, but held tight. They're flanked this time by four guards. Behind them trailed the remaining four guards. They didn't even bothered to hide that reinforcement was waiting and patrolling outside. 

Black Orchid lingered halfway between front door and bar. #Hm, I didn't considered Jonas Angelini to be *not* waiting for me here… Well, doesn't changes that much. I'll just make myself comfortable, have a drink and he'll come to the rescue of his people soon enough.# "Patrick, you go to the barkeeper and we pick a table." 

The platinum blonde man nodded brusque and went to the Barn's back wall. One very pale hand rested at the handle of his gun, the other in his coat pocket. He wanted people to imagine what he's holding in the left hand. Rumours were always so entertaining, he just couldn't give up causing them. "Who's in charge of this establishment?", he asked polite, but in a tone that tolerated neither hesitation nor lies. 

Miguel was flabbergasted when he recognized the light accent in the outlaw's voice actual as Japanese. How could a man looking Scandinavian or German be a Japanese? Also, he smelled of Ravnos. Well, this mystery would've to wait cause the Caucasian Japanese Ravnos looked like killing him with his gaze if he didn't answered instantly. "Uh… the Toreador Primogen, until one's chosen the Prince. But I'm running the bar until a decision is made." 

"Is Jonas Angelini here?" 

"No." 

"Then we wait." 

"Sure. I mean, if you insist, we won't stop you. Uh… can I serve you anything?" 

Patrick considered that for a moment. #I'm thirsty, but it's too dangerous. Someone could poison the drinks. Especially I don't trust any Toreador!# "No. We're just waiting." Patrick dared the other male to challenge him with his eyes. As soon as the barkeeper had averted his eyes, he joined Black Orchid and their troops again. 

As soon as the platinum blonde kindred - who gave him the creeps - was out of hearing range, Miguel informed the mansion about their newest customers.   


As soon as the guards and Conclave left their three vans at the Barn's parking lot, they noticed vigilante group and Black Orchid's soldiers both patrolling outside the bar. They eyed each other like every second a battle could start, so Jonas decided quickly to add no new players to this lethal game. 

"Are you all armed and ready?", Melanie asked them. She knew that everyone of them hated being asked such stupid questions - and forced to check it - but she wasn't keen on getting her Prince killed at her first night as bodyguard. It's better to look again if all weapons were present now than finding it out while the fight was at the peak. When she'd received an annoyed nod from everyone, she gave the guards a sign. 

Seconds later, Jonas, Clara and Tom found themselves flanked from all sides by heavy-armed and a bit overzealous guards. Melanie went in front of the Prince, so hoping to protect him from Black Orchid inside. 

But Jonas wasn't happy with this arrangement. "Melanie, I appreciate your efforts, but I'm the Prince. I shouldn't hide behind guards. If Black Orchid really wants to kill me tonight, she'll find a way. And if she's forced to blast all of us with the Barn. So please let me lead off. I promise to be careful and avoid unnecessary risks."   


The front doors of the Barn opened again. This time, everyone looked expectantly to the entrance, as if they're awaiting their salvation from fear and terror. And more or less, they were. Since Black Orchid arrived, the already tense atmosphere had been almost unbearable. Hadn't the vigilante group members kept on at them, many would had left for the parking lot. 

The first one who entered the Barn was Jonas Angelini. In shirt, jeans and a coat similar to Patrick's, he wasn't exactly a fashion victim. But most of the kindred inside the tavern couldn't remember being once so happy about seeing a stranger than now. 

At Jonas' heels followed Melanie Hart. The Afro-American wore a blood-red tank top, snow-white leather pants, red boots and a long, black jacket that covered her weapons from watchful neighbours and passing pedestrians. With her hair bound into a beautiful - and handy - braid, she looked like a girl coming from the disco. But she's bent on destroying everyone who dared to try stopping her and her friends. 

Clara McCarthy and Thomas DiPasquale entered the bar together. She wore a dark-blue suit - although it wasn't useful for fighting - and a woollen coat. Clara just couldn't get used to the idea of fighting now people on a regular basis. Especially if their enemy was one of the most feared gangsters at all. Tom's clothes were similar to Jonas: A deep-green t-shirt, black denims, heavy boots and a nice selection of weapons. He's looking forward to a fight - although his more reasonable mind knew that their chances weren't good. If they fought, maybe Black Orchid would die and it's over. But he didn't wanted to live like this. 

Jonas stopped as soon as all members of his group had entered. He wouldn't waste the shock momentum. "In arrangement with the Conclave of Trinity, I appoint myself to Prince of Trinity! I managed to put a working Conclave together and I have the support of the clans. Whoever disagrees with this decision shall stand up now!" 

Black Orchid stood slowly up. But instead of cursing, threatening or challenging Jonas to a duel - like everyone had expected - she went to the door. Her soldiers followed her reluctantly. Just as the Assamite reached the door, she called after the cheerful kindred of Trinity, "this fight isn't over, Angelini…" 

The End   


If I get feedback, I'll write a sequel. Actually, I'll perhaps also write a sequel if I only get flames or no reviews at all, but then I'll probably start the next Trinity story at summer.   
Also, I'm open to plot suggestions for the sequel (with mentioning, of course) co-authors and beta readers. 


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